Familiar
by TinkanaiT32
Summary: REVISED. Vash just got the greatest news of his life: he's going to be a bodyguard for his idol, a world famous classical musician. Roderich just got the worst news of his life: he's going to have a live-in bodyguard invading his space. They both meet with expectations, but both are confused when they can't shake off the feeling of familiarity...or attraction.
1. Vash Zwingli: IPA Agent

_For those of you who do not yet know me. I am TinkanaiT32 AKA the Truthsayer of Fanfiction. I tell the dramatic truth, the whole dramatic truth, and nothing but the dramatic truth. My reviews are lengthy, legendary, and love-filled (Okay maybe not so much the middle but that's how I view it). __And for those who do know me..._

_Ello' Chick-a-dees! Long time no see..uh…write…er…you know what I mean! I missed you guys (and girls) like crazy. What began as enlightenment quickly grew into torture. Quit FF?! How in the world could I possibly do that? Answer: Obviously I couldn't. I tried really hard, but my OTPs and favorite authors just dragged me back in._

_Now, I finally got my butt back into gear to revive my old stories __(as well as improve them of course). Hope it's better than you remember. Well Chick-a-dees…enjoy~_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, that right belongs to the honorable Hidekazu Himaruya. Bless his heart**

**Prologue (1)**

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Brown boots clacked against the linoleum floor as Vash Zwingli walked to the main conference room of the Intercontinental Protection Agency. Known to everyone as just IPA, it is a agency comprised of citizens from all over the world that are trained as bodyguards for the rich and famous. Since its establishment IPA is mostly known for its employees. Each member of the organization has a specialty and is proficient in at least 1 other language. Vash Zwingli is a sharpshooter of Swiss decent and is currently the top in his division despite being only 25 years old. The young determined man had climbed through the ranks immediately, completing the training academy in only 2 years instead of the average 4. As expected, being the best also means that he received the most interesting jobs. In fact he had just gotten a call no more than 10 minutes ago from his supervisor to tell him that a new assignment. He was dressed in 2 minutes, left his house in 1 minute, and arrived at IPA in 6.

As Vash approached the room, he let out a sigh as he could already hear the ruckus through the door. Rolling his shoulders and schooling his expression into one of indifference, he turned the doorknob and strode inside the room. It was even louder without the barrier of the door, but it was nothing new. Just members getting together and talking about the horrors of their last assignments or expressing their wishes of new ones. They all sat around a large rectangular table that sat 30 people easily and there was barely half that number there this time, the rest of the members still conducting their assignments.

As soon as Vash sat down in an unoccupied seat, he was immediately handed a large manila envelope that contained his newest mission. He sat it in front of him without looking and waited for their supervisor to come down and give his usual "You are the best of the best, so act like it and don't disgrace our agency" speech. With annoyance, green eyes took in his coworkers who couldn't wait and had already pulled out the documents of their envelopes.

Snatches of conversations floated over to Vash. A few seats down from him Antonio Carriedo, a human lie detector of Spanish decent, was practically gushing about his new assignment.

"I got Lovino Vargas! Yes!"

"Isn't that the brother of the famous chef Feliciano Vargas?" someone from the other side of the table asked, easily hearing his comment at the loud volume.

"Yes, the one and only." Brown eyes were filled with glee as they scanned the rest of the papers.

"Wait...isn't he also apart of the Italian Mob?"

"Si," Antonio sighed, slipping into his native tongue from excitement. Others around the table exchanged a confused glance, but didn't bring the Spaniard down from his high. It was common knowledge that IPA didn't discriminate against their clients, but each member also had their own set of morals. Still a job was a job, and if you were it better spirits the smoother it would move along.

From the other side of the table green eyes took in the sight of two blonds bickering over which of their missions featured the best celebrity.

"There's no way you have someone better than the artist Matthew Willams," Francis Bonnefoy, a French born polyglot, gloated. "Have you seen his works? Incroyable," Francis sighed. "That man's mind is ahead of his time."

"Oh yeah?" Arthur Kirkland, an English bone knife expert, challenged. "I have Wang Yao from the Shen Yun performing arts troupe. He's so graceful. Not to mention he could give you a run for your money in the looks department."

Blue eyes twinkled as Francis heard the last part of the sentence. "So you agree that I am beautiful, no?"

"Wh**-**what?" Arthur sputtered caught off guard by the comment. "Where in the bloody hell did you get that insane idea from?!"

"You just said, and I quote 'he could give you a run me a run for your money in the looks department' ergo you think I'm beautiful." He concluded with a smug look.

"Th-that's not...I didn't mean...y-you..." the Brit tried to force out the words but to no avail. The Frenchman only laughed at the other's expense.

Vash was startled from the conversation when a shrill scream erupted from right next to his ear. His normally impassive face transformed into a grimace as his ear drum protested the high pitched noise. Feliks, a master of disguise from Poland, was jumping up and down in glee.

"Oh my god, guess who I got! Go a head guess. You'll never guess, but like try anyway. Come on guess!" The effeminate blonde rattled on not even giving the others a chance to speak before he told them. "It's Gilbert Beilschmidt!"

"You mean the rock star?" Another agent clarified.

"Yes!" Feliks shouted strumming on a air guitar in an attempt at imitating the celebrity.

"That dude's a total douchebag," someone put in.

"With a hug ego," another added.

"Yeah, but he's a rich egotistical douchebag with a _mansion_," Feliks reasoned and there were nods around the table in agreement at the fact.

He might have said more on the subject, but at that time IPA's director walked into the room and there was immediate silence that followed. The time for joking around and rambunctious behavior was over. This was business. The director of the Intercontinental Protection Agency was a tall, blonde-haired blue-eyed retired US military officer named Alfred Jones. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Okay, listen up. You guys aren't new at your job, you know what needs to be done, what should happen as well as what shouldn't," his deep voice filled the room. "Hopefully, we don't have another case like Ivan." Everyone cringed inwardly at the mention of the ex-member of the IPA. Ivan Braginsky had gotten romantically attached to his client. Unlike most organizations, in IPA fraternization wasn't illegal, only frowned upon. Usually it was just better not to get involved in the first place and most IPA members stuck to that. Unfortunately for Ivan when he failed to protect his client and she died, he went crazy with grief, killing his lover's killers brutally with a lead pipe. He was now at a mental institution in Nevada.

"Don't forget you all are representing IPA," the director continued and everyone knew what was coming next. "You're the best of the best at what you do, so act like it and don't disgrace our agency." There was a pause for him to give each agent a stern look. "Inside the manila folders in your possession are the profiles of your clients. With the exception of a few it includes description of the job, the client's picture, background information, likes and dislikes yada yada yada. You know the drill. Read it, retain it, use it to complete your mission. Inside has the start date of your mission so prepare accordingly. You are dismissed."

And with that chairs scrapped against the floor as everyone got ready to leave. Conversations resumed and once again the noise level of the room rose. Vash had his envelope in one hand and was walking with purpose to the rooms exit when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Vash!" A low voice called out and he turned to see Elizabeta Héderváry, a projectile expert from Hungary and one of IPAs few female members. "Who's your assignment? Wait, no I bet you didn't even look yet, did you?" She accused and got a roll of green eyes as her answer. "Oh come on, just peek at the name."

"I'll do it when I get home," Vash told her simply.

"Why not just do it now? Come on Vash, it'll literally take a second or three. Please? Please?!" Olive green eyes looked into his, begging for the other to do her bidding.

There was another roll of eyes, this time with a huff thrown in before Vash lifted the manila envelope in slow motion putting on a show for the brunette. Elizabeta snorted in an unlady like fashion, but said nothing. She was too busy happy the other was listening to her demands. So instead she watched the other's expressions like a hawk seeing if he would give away any clue as to his thoughts about his newest charge. Vash pulled the first paper out only halfway to see the profile picture and name, but paused for a different reason. There was no picture which was unusual but the name was very well known especially to the sharpshooter. Without his consent, his lips started to form a smile but he quickly schooled his features. Afterwards he pushed the papers back into the envelope, turned around and left without a word.

Elizabeta was too shocked by the small smile she had witnessed to yell at the other for not telling her who his client was. She clutched her own envelope to her person with shaky hands and left the room, all the while a bewildered expression adorned her face.

**5 minutes later...**

In the comfort of his own home and in his room Vash opened the envelope and pulled out all the contents. As he read the name once more, he finally let a full smile grace his features. Roderich Edelstein. World famous classical musician...and Vash's biggest idol.

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**Well, Chick-a-dees what do you think? Please review, otherwise how will I know if I suck or not. I'm open to criticism, and I aim to please.**

**Ciao**


	2. Roderich Edelstein: Classical Musician

_Ello' Chick-a-dees I have a treat for you, a bonus chapter that wasn't featured in the original Familiar fanfic. Before that though let me give a special thanks to my reviewers: **loyal reader, WwLOLwW, **__**ZestyPeriwinkle****, and **__**theAwesomePurssia17**_ _As well as everyone that favorited this story. I was practically beaming from the responses for just the 1st chapter. Thank you all so much! A__nd now without further ado...enjoy~_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the brilliant webcomic turned anime that is Hetalia...*sniff* Not even in my dreams**

**Prologue (2)**

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Brown knee high boots clacked angrily against the floor and a long double breasted navy coat flared behind a tall brown-haired man as he stomped away from the office room, wishing that the last 15 minutes did not just happen. He approached the elevator located at the far side of the reception area and pressed the down arrow button 5 too many times, but needing to let out his frustration someway. When the elevator doors finally slide open, he entered and repeated the same process for the ground floor button. As the doors closed leaving his alone with his thoughts, he leaned against the reflective back wall and crossed his arms with a huff. Eyelids closed to hide violet orbs from view as the man thought about the ridiculous words that spewed from his boss's mouth not moments before. Hire a live-in bodyguard for him? So what if he got a few death threats in his fan mail?

Roderich Edelstein was a classical musician contracted to Gentosha Inc. He was mainly a pianist, but also dabbled with the violin from time to time. He was well known around the world for his ballads, but more than that it was the mystery that surrounded the violet-eyed man. There were no records of the man before he came into the music business, no pictures, and as far as everyone knew no relatives either. It's not so much as it's all a secret, but that there were none in the first place with him being adopted into a family who could not bear children and was home-schooled. His adopted parents died in a house fire a few years later, the fire consuming all of his adoption papers as well. In his parents will it was stated that he was sole owner of their summer estate and all it's possessions, which just so happen to include a grand piano as well as a few other instruments.

And thus his career as a professional pianist began at the young age of 22 with his first ballad _Mourning Heart_, a tale of his losses. Not that the press knew anything about that. Oh no, Roderich liked his privacy very much. That's also why he chose not to reveal his face to the public when his debut album came out. It was his only requirement for signing with Gentosha Inc, that his identity be kept secret. Surprisingly not only did the company agree, but the loved the mystery angle it provided. The idea of using a smoke and screen to create his silhouette for concerts was the idea of his boss, Mathias Køhler. The man did love dramatics, but that suited Roderich just fine since he hated people, especially nosy paparazzi, disrupting his peaceful life.

Which brings to light why he's cursing his boss for hiring someone who's going to be invading his personal space as a live-in bodyguard. Someone who would be with him 24/7 and even worse, someone who knew what he looked like and could put the face to the name the whole world knew. And that thought terrified him. He was so used to being a shadowy figure, a mysterious celebrity. Only his most trusted staff would actually see him face to face, and even then they were forced to sign a nondisclosure agreement. He could count on two hands how many people knew his name and face, and now some stranger he doesn't have the first clue about will be included in that list as well? Oh how he was dreading the day.

He reached the ground floor and strode out of the lobby with his head held high. His driver, Mark, was already behind the wheel reading a magazine. The black haired man looked up when he heard the clacking of Roderich's boots on the concrete ground. When he saw his boss, Mark quickly tossed the magazine away and jumped out of the car, a inconspicuous black sedan.

"My apologies, Sir. I didn't expect you out so soon," he said bowing slightly before opening the back door for Roderich.

"That's alright, I left a bit early," the musician replied, barely hiding the annoyance in his tone. Mark noticed this as he closed the back door, but said nothing until he was behind the driver's seat once more and they were pulling away from the tall steel and glass Gentosha Inc building.

"Køhler again?" Mark said, familiarity appearing once they were out of the public's eye. The pianist always said he didn't have any friends and that's somewhat true. He had coworkers, employees, and associates, however, Mark would have to be the closest to earn the title of a friend. The man had been working for Roderich for 2 going on 3 years now since the start of the musician's career, and had become a sort of confident...or well actually someone he could vent to. Mark didn't mind being a living diary, in fact he enjoyed the verbal conversations the two shared. The violet-eyed man was quite the intellectual.

Roderich snorted in response. "Of course. You wouldn't believe what he pushed on me this time."

"I can't wait to hear it," the other replied, amusement leaking from his words.

"A live-in bodyguard."

Mark had to stifle his laughter at the pout he could her in his boss's tone. "I don't see a problem with that."

"The hell you don't. You know how I feel about my privacy."

"Yes, but I also know that there's someone sending you multiple death threats in your fan mail," Mark countered.

"Oh please, it's just this one maniac who is claiming my music caused his wife to divorce him. His letters say that he found her many times masturbating to my music, and when she left she claimed he never made her feel loved the way my music did." Roderich rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Maybe if he was better in bed, he wouldn't had that problem," he muttered the last part, but Mark heard it anyway and didn't even bother to hide his laughter.

"I can fire you , you know." The musician didn't find anything funny.

"But then you'd have to hire another driver and then you'd have another stranger invading your privacy."

"...I hate that you're the voice of reason." Mark said nothing, but Roderich could see the self-satisfied smirk in the rearview mirror, and it caused his lips to raise into a smile as well albeit reluctantly.

The rest of the ride to his estate was silent, except for the radio playing softly. When they arrived at the gate, the head of his security asked for Mark's identity verification, but it was just to go through the motions. Everyone knew the amiable driver. Finally they reached the 10 car garage that housed the limos and more flashy cars that only Roderich was allowed to drive. Mark once again hopped out of the car to open the back door. Roderich exited the vehicle with regal grace and was about to retire into his home when his driver stopped him.

"Seriously," Mark said, the playful banter gone. "Until this situation is figured out, having someone who's always there to protect you is for the best." Let no one say that Roderich Edelstein wasn't well loved by his staff. Roderich allowed a small smile to grace his features at the concern in the other's voice.

"It's not like I have a choice in the matter, but I'll at least_ try_ to be somewhat nice," he promised with sincerity.

"And Hell just froze over!" Mark exclaimed with a wide smile.

Roderich snorted and shoved the other's shoulder. "Har har," he said, starting to walk away. "Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight, Roddy."

Upon entering the house, his butler greeted him politely and informed him that dinner would be soon. Roderich nodded, thanking him but before he could change into more comfortable clothing his butler stopped him once more and handed him a large manila envelope. The pianist raised an eyebrow at the 'Don't throw me away' written on a post-it note. And then rolled his eyes at the 'I mean it -Mathias' right underneath. He took the folder and thanked his butler once more before climbing the winding staircase to his master bedroom. Roderich sat the envelope on his dresser and pulled out a white dress shirt and black slacks to change into, the most casual the classical musician would allow himself to be.

Finally comfortable he sat on his bed and pulled the envelope closer to him. Opening it, he was surprised to find a folder with another post-it note. This one had 'I thought you might want this' written on it. Roderich opened the folder and resisted the urge to smile, instead rolling his violet eyes once more. As much as he said he hated his boss, MathaisKøhler (the insufferable Dane)was a good man who understood the browned haired man well. Inside the folder was a profile. Specifically a profile on his new live-in bodyguard. The very first page was a glossy photo of a blonde haired man, but the thing that stood out the most was the deep green eyes staring back at him. Something in Roderich sparked in the back of his mind, a sense of...familiarity? He pushed it away with a shake of his head and flipped the photo over so he could see the next page. It was a short bio, including his specialties.

"Vash Zwingli," he mussed reading the name typed on the page, trying out the name on his lips. The musician then settled back into his soft pillows and began to read, soon getting lost in the words of the high level IPA agent who would be soon protecting him. Other pages included past assignments, not going into too much detail of course, but interesting all the same. He didn't even pause until his butler knocked on his door to inform him of dinner.

**Later that night...**

After dinner and fiddling with his violin for a hour the musician trekked back up the winding staircase to his master bedroom. He stripped down to his underwear and slipped between the soft sheets. Pillows surrounded his head giving him the feeling of laying on a cloud, but he couldn't fall asleep just yet. His mind raced with too many thoughts of the next day, when he would meet his so called live-in bodyguard.

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**Hope you like the addition, Chick-a-dees. I thought people might want to know Roderich's take on the situation. As for those of you who are new and are confused about the smoke and screen silhouette fact that was mentioned, do not fear for it will be explained more in the next chapter.**

**Review please~**


	3. Pre-Meeting

_Ello again, Chick-a-dees. I decided to just combine this chapter with the one I had for chapter 4 to make a super long (if not draw out) introduction. Still a special thanks to my reviewers: **theAwesomePurssia17, WwLOLwW, and pirateANDelf, **as well as everyone who favorite and followed this story. I'm happy you like the bonus chapter because there will be more never before seen chapters (Ha! I'm trying to make it sound more important than it is) Still I hope you like it. Until then, you have this chapter to enjoy~_

**Disclaimer: If I had any claim whatsoever to Hetalia...(which I don't BTW)...do you think I'd be on FF when I could have made my fantasies reality?**

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**Vash POV**

I always wake a bit early to start my day. Usually around 0600 hours, but on the day that my assignment started I woke up even earlier. Actually, I'm not sure I even slept in the first place. It was akin to a child on Christmas Day, I was just so excited. I haven't felt like that a while, and it was all because of my client: Roderich Edelstein. I used the extra time I had acquired to look over his file once more. I grabbed the envelope from my bedside table, I myself still situated in my plain twin bed. My deep green sheets only covered my lower half, my upper torso seated up with my pillow sandwiched between me and the backboard. I settled back to get myself more comfortable, the covers shifted across my bare stomach, and then proceeded to pull out the papers that contained information about my charge. My eyes scanned the pages greedily.

It was the typical request for a bodyguard, except that it also requested I'd be a live-in bodyguard at his estate. The reason for the request wasn't too unusual, but it made me stifle a laugh. There were threats made on his life from a disgruntled man who's wife left him after hearing one of the musician's ballads _Sounds of Love_. The duration of the mission was unknown. I assumed it would be until the found the culprit, and it was deemed safe for the pianist to move around freely. I was perfectly fine with staying as long as I could. I wasn't lying when I said that Roderich Edelstein was my idol. In fact he was the sole reason I got interesting in classical music.

The man was a genius when it came to the piano, but it was the violin that captured my interest. I don't know how he it did it, but he created this...atmosphere with his music. It evoked emotions in its listeners and that's what made him so famous. Well, that and the mysterious fact that no one knows what the man looks like. As strange as it sounded there was no picture on record of the musician, not even in my briefing file. It was all smoke and screen, literally. All interviews and concerts show just his silhouette from behind a floor to ceiling screen separating the pianist from his audience with smoke billowing out around him. He says its to protect his privacy and I can understand the need. I've learned from my previous clients that the lifestyles of the rich and the famous isn't all red carpets and after parties, but that they have personal lives as well that they want to keep separate from business.

I'm the same way. Business and pleasure where in two separate categories in my life. Business being the bigger of the two of course. In fact because of my job I never had the time to even attend one of the musician's concerts. However, now...now not only will I have a chance to see the man behind the screen, I'd be around him almost 24/7, I'd be by him for every concert, every autograph session, even business transactions. I'd be there...guarding him. And it was that thought that mellowed me somewhat. This was a job assignment, not a vacation to spend frolicking about with my idol. I had to be professional.

A disappointed sigh left my lips and I closed the file having read through it twice. I raked my fingers through my blonde hair and looked over at my bedside digital clock. 0630, about the time I usually wake up to train in my makeshift dojo downstairs. I lifted myself out of the bed and pulled on black sweat pants, foregoing a shirt entirely. It hindered movement anyway. My bare feet made soft patting sounds against the hardwood floors of my small freestanding townhouse. Actually it wasn't mine per say. IPA had homes available for single agents that were close to headquarters. There was even day care available to those rare single parent agents. Most agents I knew had preferred to find their own apartment or house. Then again most agents I knew were also married or involved with someone.

I was neither and had no need to go through the hassle of house hunting, so I opted for the townhome. It was equipped with everything that was essential to survival. Kitchen, bathroom with a shower, adequate storage space, a living room, and an extra room that could have been an entertainment room should I have guests over, but instead I turned it into my own personal martial arts training room. A better choice in my opinion, and so much more useful.

The opening to my dojo was not barred by a door, instead a Japanese noren curtain with Hokusai waves printed on it hung from the archway. I pulled the silky material out of the way to let myself through and was immediately basked in the sense of calmness. Dojos are a tranquil place, meant for reflection, learning from our mistakes and moving forward. While not an official dojo, I decorated it to look like the one from my childhood. I bowed before stepping on the mat, padded over to where a picture of my old master hung and bowed again. Then I stretched before starting any exercises. I was an expert in guns, yes, but I enjoyed hand-to-hand combat as well. Currently, I was working my way up to a blue belt in Krav Maga. I had already mastered Aikido in my teens, wanting to protect myself but not at the expense of another person's pain. Once my post-sleep induced aches were stretched out, then I began to warm up.

My warm up usually consisted of a light jog around the perimeter of the room, first forwards then backwards and last sideways. Then came the joints. From my toes to my fingertips I rolled my joints, first inward and then outward. The tuck and rolls were in the same order as the jog except I rolled from one corner of the mat to the other. Once I felt my body was completely relaxed then did the more challenging drills come. It was only moments later that I felt the power rising in me and I itched to practice on the 6 foot heavy bag that hung from the ceiling off in one corner of the room. I didn't waste another moment after the last drill and went over to the punching bag with light footsteps, feeling very much like a predator hunting it's prey. Granted it was a prey that couldn't move, but that didn't stop me from attacking it with the ferocity as if it could fight back. I ducked and weaved away from imaginary jabs aimed towards me, and returned then in full force.

It was only when I took a water break that I bothered to glance at the watch on my wrist: 0800 it read. Perfect. Just enough time to shower, eat breakfast and take a taxi to the airport. It was only an hour and a half flight, but it was better than the drive that would have taken 3 times as long just to get to my client's estate. I was informed that there would be a driver waiting at the airport to pick me up, so I didn't have to worry about paying for another taxi, not knowing how far away the musician's estate was from the airport. My bags were already packed from the previous night but I double checked to make sure I had everything just in case before shrugging on a light coat before stepping outside the house. One carry on, one garment bag and one duffle bag to be checked in were put into the trunk of the cab that was waiting outside for me and I myself climbed into the back seat.

**15 minutes later...**

I arrived at the airport an hour before my flight started to board. It was enough time to check in my luggage, go through security, and grab a snack. The walk over to my terminal was a good 10 minutes and that left the wait for only 10 more minutes until they called for priority access boarding. I was flying business class, all paid for by IPA, and the seats were pleasantly plush. Once everyone had boarded, I watched out of my window as the scenery grow smaller and smaller the higher we climbed in altitude. The plane ride itself was uneventful, which I guess is a good thing, and I breathed a sigh of relief once I exited the plane and could stretch my limbs.

My first stop was baggage claim to get my duffle bag, and I watched the conveyor belt for the familiar black bag whilst tapping my foot impatiently. As soon as I spotted it, I grabbed it and quickly went to put distance between myself and the loud civilians that surrounded me. I hated crowded places with a passion. It was only a short walk to the Arrivals pick-up location where the taxis and buses usual were. I was told someone would be waiting for me, Roderich Edelstein's driver. Mark Shyers was the name mentioned in the file. My eyes traveled over the various signs being held up, and there among the 'Welcome Home's was my name on a large rectangular white poster board. The black haired man holding it was scanning the terminal, looking for me I presumed. I walked over to him and his eyes locked onto mine.

"Vash Zwingli?" He questioned.

"That's me."

"Nice to meet you," he said with a friendly smile holding out his hand for me to shake. "I'm Mark, Mr. Edelstein's driver. I'm here to take you to the estate." I shook the offered hand and when he motioned to take my bag I kindly told him I was fine to carry it myself. He led me over to a white short limo and opened the trunk for me. I set my bags inside and shut it myself before he opened the back seat for me as well. It was strange having someone else do things for me and hopefully it wouldn't be a continued effort.

The drive wasn't too long, and the driver was talkative. He informed me about his boss's likes and dislikes, what annoys him and makes him happy. All things I knew from the file, but I let him talk. It was better than the alternative: the boring silence. When we reached the estate, Mark jumped out of the limo to open my door first and I thanked him awkwardly, not used to such treatment. He also got my bags from the trunk, but I put my foot down when he wanted to carry them in as well. I took a few minutes to absorb the enormous place that would be my home for the duration of my job.

It was made of grey stone and two stories high. The surrounding area was a lush green and colorful shrubs dotted the landscape. The actual building was divided into various sections, some rectangular and some cylindrical. It was impressive and I was looking forward to taking in the details, but that would come later. For now I had a client to meet. I was about to make my way up the stone steps when Mark's voice stopped me.

"Just a head's up," he told me, one foot inside the vehicle while he balanced on the other and his elbow resting on the open door. "Ro-Mr. Edelstein...may seem a bit rude at first, but he's really a good guy. "

I nodded my thanks, not knowing what else to say about that little tidbit of information.

"Please keep him safe," were his parting words and if I couldn't tell from the way he talked earlier, now I was sure that Mark cared for his boss. The concern gave me a better look at the type of person Roderich Edelstein was than my files ever could, and it also gave me hope that we could be friendly as well. Besides, I would hate for my idol to turn out to be an asshole like so many other celebrities I had come across.

"I will," I told him and I would. It was my job after all.

I hitched my duffle bag higher onto my back and shouldered my garment bag that held my suits before making my way up the stairs in front of the estate. After what seemed like a thousand steps, but in actuality was only about 10, I reached the top and stood in front of two intimidating wooden doors. There were knockers that were shaped like treble clefs and that made me smirk in amusement. I lifted my hand to grab onto the knockers, but then my eyes catch sight of the doorbell that set off to the right of the wood panel. Thinking practically I weighed my options of which would be heard clearer throughout the large estate. On one hand, I really wanted to do the old fashioned thing and bang the knockers, but on the other hand...

I rang the doorbell.

**Roderich POV**

I'm not much of a morning person, but when the day finally came for my new bodyguard to start his job, I woke up before the maids in my estate. I stared at the digital clock mounted on the wall opposite of my bed showing my time as well as those of big cities around the world. It was 4:50AM and light had barely broken through the curtains that covered my window. I took in a deep breath feeling my weight shift among the many pillows that were littered around me. What? I liked the plushness. It also served as a slight distraction in my rising nervousness. I was going to have a live-in bodyguard, basically a total stranger, see me and put a face to the name that the world knows. Though, it helped a bit that I knew a little bit about him from what was in his file.

Vash Zwingli was only a year older than my 24 years. He joined the Intercontinental Protection Agency straight after graduating high school. Valedictorian, I noticed with a roll of my eyes. Sounds like a total nerd. He scored above average in all marks of the entrance exam, but it was weapons qualifications that really stood him out above the rest of his peers. Expert shooter: 40 out of 40 hits. Dead center. With targets ranging as far back as 300 meters. Okay, maybe not so much of a nerd then. He's taken a lot of jobs in his 7 years of service (2 of those years were spent training at the IPA Training Academy) one of which included the daughter of the British Prime Minister.

I still had a few hours before my new employee's flight would land and my driver Mark would go pick him up, so I decided to kill some time by practicing on the clarinet I kept stored in my room. It wasn't my favorite instrument to play, but it helped with the nerves. Not much brain cells were used up by playing it and it was perfect for clearing my thoughts. I started to play My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean at 1/4 beat. My fingers shifting periodically and my breath coming out long and drawn out. Frère Jacques came next still keeping that nice an slow beat. And then I ended with Silent Night. They were the very first songs that I learned on the clarinet and they never failed put me into a trance.

By the time I had broken from the music induced haze it was nearing 6AM. Still really early, so I decided to take a shower...no a bath was more suitable. My master bedroom had a bathroom with one of those built-in-the-floor tubs. I loved it. I wasn't normally an indulgent person, but I liked to pamper myself on occasion...okay many occasions. Stress relief was one such occasion and my muscles were so tense only piping hot water and a continuous stream from built in spray jets could melt away.

Mind made up, I strode over into my bathroom, bare feet making slapping sounds against the granite flooring. I first turned on the water before placing a CD into the nearby radio. With the press of a button _Moonlight_ by Yiruma, a Japanese pianist, resounded though the room and I felt my had grow heavy with the rhythm, a stronger music induced haze fogged my brain and I relished in the weightless feeling.

A moment later I stripped myself of the white dress shirt and black slacks from the previous night before slipping into the heavenly heat contained in the bathtub. I positioned myself so that the jet spray fell directly along my neck and spine, and then I let my head rest on the edge of the tub. I inhaled deeply holding it a few seconds before letting it go, feeling my muscles go pliant.

When _Moonlight_ transitioned over to _Fairy Tale_ I started to wash. Grabbing the Zephyr soap, I brought it to my skin. Rubbing in slow mechanical circles, I lathered up my body starting from my neck and shoulders and working my way down my extremities. The scents of ginger root and jasmine paired with coconut milk and warm amber musk quickly filled my nostrils. Afterwards, I ducked my limbs under the water to rinse the soap off then grabbed the Dead Sea Mud Salt soap, a grainy bar that helped to exfoliate my skin. The scraps against my flesh were welcome, and I felt utterly clean after scrubbing my whole body. Lastly was the Wildwood soap bar with its aroma of doug fir and wild cherry bark, it would leave me smelling like the forest. I must have stayed soaking in the tub for longer than I planned because soon there was a knock at my bathroom door.

"Mr. Edelstein," I heard the soft voice of one of my maid calling out, Jillian by the sound of it.

Wait, no Julian was his actual name. I would be an understatement to say that I was shocked when I had found out that the pigtailed silver-haired maid with large amethyst eyes to rival my own was actually male. When we had first met she...uh...he was out on the street trying to sell her..his original art. It hit something inside of me I wouldn't acknowledge as sentiment, but I walked over an before my brain knew what my mouth was doing, I offered her...him a job at my estate. He refused at first, stubborn and trying to prove his independence. It was a week later after a particularly violent downpour that we crossed paths again. I repeated my offer and he accepted.

In regard to his talents, he told me he could 'make things pretty.' Embellishment basically, and I gave her..him a job as a maid. Someone to oversee that the house was in pristine condition. For 3 weeks I was blissfully unaware that the hard working teenage girl was in fact not a girl until I stumbled onto him changing from a spill on his blouse. If the absence of a chest wasn't enough of a hint, then the slight bulge in the lace panties (that were _not_ part of the uniform) sure did the trick.

I was confused more than shocked at the discovery because I didn't understand why didn't he tell me. I could have gotten him a different uniform if I had known. I told him such, but he told me that wearing a dress helped him express himself. Well, I didn't really see any reason to force him to change since she...he had his own quarters. Besides the other maids had taking a liking to him, apparently I was the only one blind to his gender. Still I had trouble thinking about him as anyone but Jillian.

"Mr. Edelstein?" he called again, this time with a hint of concern and I realized that I had yet to acknowledge him.

"Hmmm?" I hummed, my mind still halfway in my memories.

"Breakfast is ready," he told me, and as if to collaborate with his words my stomach growled at the same time.

"I'll be down in a few moments, thank you" I replied, and though I couldn't see it I knew he was bowing his head, two braided pigtails falling over his shoulders.

I listened as his soft footfalls retreated from the bathroom door and soon after a muted 'clink' could be heard from the closing of the master bedroom door. I rose from the quickly cooling waters, sighing at the way the water slid down my body like silk before grabbing a large navy blue towel from the rack close to the bathtub. I wrapped it around my person and stepped out of the tub and onto the white rug place in front of it. I dried myself off first before hanging the towel back in its place and walking out of the bathroom, naked as the day I was born. I had nothing to hide or be ashamed of, I took pride in my body.

It was a short walk to my wardrobe, and I flung the doors open. The first thing I grabbed was underwear and then I stood with my hands on my hips, pondering what I would wear for the day. Something...powerful perhaps? To show my new guard just who's in charge? Yes, I liked that idea very much. In the end I chose to wear a white blazer with a red button up shirt underneath and crisp black slacks. White leather shoes adored my feet and they had a quarter inch heel that made my steps echo loudly against the floor. I looked at myself in my floor length mirror, satisfied with the aura of power I eluded.

Going down the winding staircase slowly never failed to make him feel like a nobleman, so of course I did it every chance I got. Sometimes I almost half expected there to be a crowd of people waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me with awe. My ego was a funny thing.

I entered the kitchen where the scent of freshly baked Semmeln and sausages. There was already an empty plate set on the table with many plates and bowls brimming with various foods and fruits for me to choose from. My cook was amazing and I paid him well for it. I paid all my staff well in actuality. I know I can be a difficult person to deal with sometimes.

Once my plate was filled, the untouched food was taken to the dinning hall for my staff to enjoy. There's were greetings exchanged as the maids passed me on their way to eat. Or well, they said 'Good morning' and I nodded to acknowledge I heard. Although when I saw Julian trying to hurry pass me with his head ducked, my voice stopped him.

"Julian, what did you do to your uniform?" I asked with one eyebrow raised. The navy blue and white traditional dress was now shortened with added ruffles, and violet lined the color and cuffs.

"I...uh...modified it? Doesn't it look great?!" He gushed, giving me a wide smile sweet that further strengthened the Julian vs Jillian battle that raised in my head from time to time. In truth it didn't look bad at all, but that wasn't the point.

"Everyone has to be uniform," I told him sternly, sounding way too much like a parent for my liking.

There was a pause.

"Soooo, if we're all wearing the same thing, it's okay?"

"Yes..wait, no. Where are you going, Jillian?" My voice rose slightly and I switched his name unconsciously.

"Gotta eat if I need the energy to make all those new uniforms for you," he said already backing away from me.

"I never said-"

"Thanks, Mr. Edelstein!" he called over his shoulder while he sped away, his silver braids leaving a trail behind him. That cheeky little manipulator. However, I wasn't angry. If anything I was happy to see him so passionate. I turned back to my food with a small fond smile. Several silent minutes later, the last piece of jam covered toast was halfway to my mouth when it happened.

I heard the doorbell ring.

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**Now that you all are caught up with both POVs separately, we can look at them both together next. Not much dialogue in this chapter, but that's because their initial meeting will happen in the next chapter, and then their lips will flap...thaaaaaat sounded less gross in my head. Anyhoo, because I'm such a kind and loving author (okay, it's still up for debate) I'll give you a little gift:**

**Next chapter preview:**

_There was an awkward silence stretching between us as we both took in one another, employer and employee, and I rushed to fill it. I racked brain my for something, anything, to say to the blonde man._

_"You're kinda short," I blurted out and immediately wanted to smack myself._

**Reviews are greatly treasured and appreciated**

**P.S- kudos to whoever can guess what nation Julian is**


	4. Post-Meeting

_Yes, Chick-a-dees, Julian/Jillian is Kugel Mugel the micronation. The artsy nation had me squealing when I first read about him. Anyhoo, a special thanks to my reviewers **Maya Gordelia, HetaJuu, and Guest **as well as those who favorited and reviewed._

_Special Announcement for any of my old readers (and well actually my new ones as well) I'm bringing back Hetalia Host Club towards the end of this month. Until then you can read about these two fumbling around each other. E__njoy~_

**Disclaimer: There's only 1 thing, 2 do, 3 words, 4 you: This isn't mine. All characters are the intellectual property of Hidekaz Himaruya**

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**Vash POV**

I didn't have to wait long for the door open. It swung in a wide arch, revealing a tall elderly man with greying hair. However, his posture was erect under his traditional black 3 piece suit while white gloved hands simultaneously held open the door and gestured me inside. I hitched my duffle bag higher on my shoulders, more out of nerves than actual necessity, and took a step forward. I was given a moment to view the lavish entryway before a deep slightly accented voice reached my ears.

"Good afternoon, my name is Haas and I am the head butler of the estate. My Master will be with you momentarily. I was asked to lead you to the lounging area where you can wait for him there. Would you like your bags to be taken to your room now, Sir?" he said in a prim and proper tone fit for his position.

I hesitated but in the end relinquished hold of my possessions to a maid who had been summoned for the task. It was strange to suddenly not have the familiar weight, and though I knew danger would not befall me in this household, I still felt a bit of apprehension when my weapons were out of my sight. I took comfort in the Swiss Army knife strapped to my ankle though. Small blessings and such.

"Thank you," I said to both Haas and the black haired maid. In return they both bowed their heads slightly.

"Now if you will follow me, Sir," the head butler said. I nodded to acknowledge his words and he took that as permission to lead me deeper in the estate, walking forward with brisk steps and I easily matched his stride. Moving with a purpose, I though happily. Something I admired and respected.

I took care to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn't help the widening of my eyes when I spotted the décor along the way. The wallpaper was a deep navy blue with accents of gold flowing along the expanse of the wall like vines. Every few feet there were potted plants that reached my waist, filled with foreign white furry snowflake-like flowers with smaller yellow flowers in the center. There was art too. Paintings, sculptures, and once we even passed a portrait. It showcased a family featuring an older looking couple and a little boy, but it was too far away for me to see the details.

A moment later we stopped at a set of intricately crafted wooden doors. With the same flourish he did with the front door, Haas opened the doors widely and then beckoned me inside.

"Mr. Edelstein will be with you shortly," he said with a elegant bow before backing away and closing the doors, leaving me alone to take in my surroundings.

My instincts took over and I first searched for exits, any windows or air vents that could be of use. There were no windows in the room, but an air vent was situated on the far east side wall, above an armchair and about 5 meters from the ground; big enough for a child or maybe a small woman. I made a mental note of that and continued my search. There was only one other door present in the room, but a quick check revealed it to house what appeared to be replacement throw pillows. Content with my analysis, I turned my attention towards the rest of the room.

The walls were cream and navy blue, the second color appeared to be a reoccurring theme from what I saw so far. Three cream colored arm chairs with matching ottomans lay in a semi circle. Laying a few feet in front of them was a fireplace with two stone lions standing guard on both sides. It was clean and looked untouched, but the faint scrapes I could see on the stone told me it was used frequently. A baby grand piano sat on the west side of the room, and there looked to be a sheet of music already on the stand. I walked over, curious as to what piece it would be, when something caught my eye from under the piano's stool. The half obscured brightly colored object didn't quite fit with the rest of the room and I leaned over to pick it up.

Imagine my surprise to find the object to be none other than a rubix cube, something I hadn't touched in a good 5 years. I turned the toy around in my hand, noticing with amusement the failure of the previous attempt to complete the puzzle. I myself had trouble with the puzzle in the past, but had long since learned the secret of solving it quickly, my personal best was just under 3 minutes. Decided I had nothing better to do as I waited for my new client, I reset the cube and started it anew.

It was simple really, the device worked around a swivel so the color in the middle never changed. All that's left to do is adjust accordingly, thinking a few steps ahead to decided which way to turn so the colors would align. It was under that mentality that within seconds I already had one side completed and I was just finishing the second when I heard the door open. I tensed, pausing slightly at the sound before continuing twisting and turning, my mind however, was still actively on the other person in the room. The person didn't say anything and I didn't hear movement so not a maid or someone who would be cleaning. I could only assume they were observing me.

I had to back track when a stray yellow was left in a field of red, and after another moment 4 sides were completed. My companion was still silent and didn't make any move to come closer to me. Still observing then, I thought and I was confident that the mysterious person was my new client, the elusive Roderich Edelstein. And for reasons unbeknownst to me, that made sweat dot along my brows. The thought of being in the same room as my idol. All too soon I had completed all 6 sides and I turned the colorful cube in my hand for a moment, observing the finished product. It was only when I finally admitted to myself I was stalling that I placed the puzzle on the piano top and turned around.

He wasn't what I was expecting.

Although, I wasn't really sure what I was expecting, or if I even had expectations at all really, but the man in front of me was a surprise either way. In a split second I took in the brown hair that laid in layers a top his head with one random curl defying gravity, the violet eyes that were magnified by glasses, and also the mole that set to the left side of his mouth. It only took another second to take in his wardrobe as well. A white blazer with a red button up shirt underneath and crisp black slacks with white leather shoes covering his feet. As he strode over to me he eluded power, grace, and...familiarity? My eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought, but then I dismissed it when the taller man stopped about two feet away.

Then there was a silence between us that was filled with just a small amount of tension, neither of us unsure how to proceed. I inwardly cursed myself for my apprehension. I haven't even started the job and already my judgment was being clouded by opinions towards the celebrity. After schooling my face into a blank expression, I straightened my back and held out a hand.

"Hello," I took the initiative. "I'm Vash Zwingli from IPA." That seemed to snap him out of his stupor and he gave me a slightly sheepish smile. He stepped forward, his long legs easily shortening the distance between us and held out a hand as well to meet my own.

"Roderich Edelstein," he said in a voice as deep and melodious as the music he produced. "Pleasure to meet you." He captured my hand in a firm grip and shook. His hands were soft with long slender fingers perfect for a piano.

It was actually him, I thought as our hands disconnected. My idol, Roderich Edelstein, world famous classical musician. It was him in the flesh in front of me without the use of smoke and screens. The thought was a exciting one, and I just hoped that the smile that managed to slip through my mask of indifference was at least professional and not in the likeness of a crazed fan. I took comfort in the fact that he did not look horrified and counted that as a no.

It gave me hope that the employment could work out well.

**Roderich POV**

When the head butler of my estate, Haas, told me the newest addition to my staff had arrived, I gave myself a few moments to calm myself before heading down to the lounging area I used to entertain guests. Once I reached the doors to the entrance, I paused for a second with my hand resting lightly on the door handle before chiding myself for being so nervous. If anything my new bodyguard should be nervous of me. I straightened my back, lifted my chin and then opened the door.

The sight wasn't something I was expecting.

Not that I had specific expectations, but finding my soon-to-be employee fiddling with a rubix cube wasn't one of them. So that's where that blasted contraption went. I bought it on a whim so time ago, something to stimulate my mind, but in the end it only served to frustrate me immensely and it found itself flown from my hands in anger. I had barely spared it a second thought since then. I diverted my eyes from the two completed sides the man had finished in order to take in his appearance. Even though I read his file and stared at his picture for a while last night, but it didn't prepare me for the real thing.

His back was the only part visible to me from where he was standing, but I could tell he wasn't bulky, nor was he all that tall. In fact he looked to be at least one head shorter than myself. He was clad in green jacket that was slightly wrinkled and brown cargo pants tucked into black combat boots. I saw with an appraising eye that he stood with good posture, his back was erect and not hunched over the puzzle in his hands. Also, I realized that though it seemed like he was casually standing there, my detailed eyes could catch the slight tension in his arms and shoulders.

He knew I was there.

I was brought out of my musings by a clack. My eyes traveled to the origin of the noise and saw the rubix cube on top of the baby grand piano I had placed in there just because I could. I blinked a few times in disbelief, not quite comprehending what I saw. All 6 sides of the puzzle were completed, but it couldn't have been more than 2 minutes of me observing the other man. Did he really just...

I lifted my eyes from the toy and stared right into brilliant green. Now that I could see the front of him I noticed the photograph included in his files had captured the man's personality perfectly. Short blonde hair framed a stern face, the green jacket was open to reveal a tight black tee that was tucked into his cargo pants held up by a sandy brown belt. There was an aura about him that despite his small stature, his presence commanded the room. All in all he looked like some type of rough mercenary, which I guess isn't too far of a stretch from his actual job at the Intercontinental Protection Agency.

In wake of the steadily creeping silence, I walked over to him and pondered about a way to break it. Introducing myself was an expected route, and honestly I should have done that as soon as the other man turned around, but no I was still a bundle of nerves. Even more so when I noticed his gaze scurry around every aspect of persona from head to toe. I was tempted to say 'Take a picture, it'll last longer', but was also afraid that he might. Which was silly of course because Mikkel included a copy of the agent's signed nondisclosure agreement in the file he sent me, but irrational fears are...well, irrational like that. Just when I was about to open my mouth when the blonde beat me to it.

"Hello. I'm Vash Zwingli from IPA." His voice was deep, but not as rough as I expected, there was also a hint of an accent. He held out his hand and I stepped forward to receive it.

"Roderich Edelstein. Pleasure to meet you." See? I could be courteous. His hand was calloused and the rough texture felt foreign on my mosterized hands, but it was a strangely nice feeling. When we shook hands, I saw a hint of a smile on his face, but then it was gone just as quickly and all too soon the contact was broken.

We reached a stand still after that. There was an awkward silence stretching between us as we both took in one another, employer and employee, and I rushed to fill it. I racked brain my for something, anything, to say to the blonde man.

"You're kinda short," I blurted out and immediately wanted to smack myself. There goes my courtesy.

His lips quirked in what could have been a smile...or anger, and just like the barely there smile from before it was gone in a second, his expression once again neutral. What was with this guy?

"I get that a lot, Mr. Edelstein, but rest assured it does nothing to hinder my ability to protect you." And goodness if he didn't sound so incredibly serious. Now I appreciated professionalism, but there was a fine line between being professional and being a no nonsense stick-in-the-mud. I encouraged rapport between my employees and myself, and close bonds since they were among the handful of people in the world who knew of my identity. It was a almost like a family and this man..this stranger, did not fit into that image.

"Good to know," I said, glad I didn't insult the man who would be protecting me for an unpredicted time. Never bite the hand that feeds you and all that jazz. "I'm going to led you to your room where you can get settled and then someone will escort you down for lunch and we can go over your contract in detail." When I saw his nod I continued to speak. "I'm sorry for the short notice of my boss's request, but I thank you for accepting. You're supposed to start tomorrow, but a day of rest wouldn't hurt. A official tour can occur at that time if you would like that."

"Thank you, Mr. Edelstein," Vash said, and I had to suppress an eye roll at his nearly robotic tone. Mark would be so proud of my restraint.

"Your welcome. It only makes sense for you to be familiar with the ins and outs of my estate. I'm sure you'll also want to meet with the rest of my employees as well as my security team..." I trailed off and he nodded once more in answer. "I thought as much. Please follow me to your room. I had it modified a bit to fit your preferences. I hope you find it to your liking," I concluded with a smile. Look at me being courteous again, maybe Hell is starting to freeze over.

When I received nothing more than another nod coupled with a blank expression for my polite efforts I let out a silent sigh that was still covered by the smile. Turning around it dropped as I strode towards the wooden doors, leading my new bodyguard out of the lounging area.

I didn't have much hope that this employment was going to work.

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**I like writing about this pair, especially when it comes to misunderstandings and confusion. And trust me, Chick-a-dee, there will be a lot of that in this fanfic. Up next will be in 3rd person and it's also where a few answers about each other's past is revealed. For all my old readers, the basic plot is still the same, but the road is different.**

**Next chapter preview:**

_"How old is she?" Vash asked as the maid ran off giggling, she couldn't have been more than 16, and she acted a bit..._immature for lack of a better word.

_"He's 15," Roderich replied. The blonde man nodded, his assumptions correct. Then his employer's words reached his brain. Wait..._

_"He?"_

**Just one review can help save a starving plot bunny**


	5. Questions

_Ello again, Chick-a-dees. I'm deciding to be productive with my free time while I still have it, so here's another chapter! Still a special thanks to my reviewers: _**aricyanide and KittiBell**_ as well as everyone who favorite and followed this story. It makes me happy that someone out there is enjoying what I write. And I love feedback! Good, bad, it doesn't matter, as long as I can use it to make me a better writer._

_Okay, I'll stop babbling now. Enjoy~_

**Disclaimer: ****Esto no es mío, ****Dies ist nicht mein, 这不是我的. No matter which language I say it in, it's clear that this is**** not mine**

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"Here's your room," Roderich said unceremoniously. He held the door open while Vash stepped inside, slowly taking in the serenely decorated room.

When his employer had said that he had the room decorated to suit the IPA agent's interests, the blonde had his doubts, but they were washed away as soon as his eyes landed on the interior of the room. The walls were a deep forest green. Actually the whole room had a nature like quality. Plants were hanging from the ceiling in black pots, the same unique white and yellow flowers that lined the main hall. The floor was covered with a dark brown Sorona carpet, and Vash could feel the soft texture even through his boots.

The room was pretty big in itself and was sectioned off into two parts. One part was the bedroom that featured a king-sized bed with cream and brown sheets. The bed was low like a tatami mat, just the way the agent liked it, and the frame was made of oak wood. A flat screen television was mounted on the wall opposite of the bed, its remote was placed on the black nightstand beside the bed. Next to the door they entered was a wardrobe big enough to cover half the wall. Vash could see with slight relief that his two bags were placed right in front of the furniture. Next to the flat screen was an entrance with two wooden steps that led down to the second part of the room.

The flooring of the other section was hardwood, the same dark oak that the frame of the bed was made of. The colors of the walls were still the same, but this time faint outlines of trees could be seen in the right light. There were only a few items in the room, tall potted plants on the ground this time, a bookshelf and desk with a chair being among them. There was even a table with a small stone tranquility fountain on it, but the thing that drew the agent's attention most was the black and cream rice paper screen that sat off to the side of the room. He walked forward and gently slid the delicate door open.

"Wow," the exclamation left the bodyguard's lips involuntarily.

In front of his eyes was an in-floor bathtub surrounded by wood and a thick borderline of decorative cobblestone. Instead of there being a spout for the water to come from on the ground, on the ceiling was a giant shower head that would release the water in a water fall like fashion over his head. A cream shag rug was placed in front of the tub, a sink sat to the right towards the back and half hidden behind it Vash could see a toilet. Cream towels were draped across wooden pegs that dotted the enclosed walls, one big one and two small ones.

"Do you like it?" The musician asked unnecessarily. The blonde's mouth closed with an almost audible snap and he just nodded.

His eyes were so focused on the scene in front on him that he didn't notice the pleased smirk on the face of his employer beside him. Roderich, on the other hand, was aware of every little expression on his newest employee's face before it closed off. The widening of jade eyes, the slight part of his lips, and the breath that escaped his mouth in almost a sigh. Oh yes, the musician cataloged every bit of it for future reference. It seemed the bodyguard was capable of showing his expressions after all.

"Thank you," Vash said with a hint of a sheepish smile on his face. It was gone a not even a second later. "Mr. Edelstein," he added, mentally berating himself for the slip up, but his face betrayed none of his thoughts.

Roderich fought the urge to let out a long suffering sigh. It figured lavishing the other with luxury wouldn't be enough to break the shell around the bodyguard. Why was the brunet even bothering to try? Oh right, that damn promise he made Mark.

"It's no problem at all, Mr. Zwingli." Two could play at that game, Roderich thought, inwardly smirking. "This was already a forest themed room and I just added a few things to fit it to your tastes," the musician replied.

"Still..." Vash started but the other cut him off.

"I'll leave you to your devices, Mr. Zwingli. You're free until around noon, and then I'll have someone show you to the room where we will have lunch and go over the specifics of our contract. So there won't be any confusion," Roderich added with a sickly sweet smile.

"That sound good, Mr. Edelstein. Thank you," the blonde said once more, and again his employer waved it away.

"It's fine, enjoy your room." And with that he was gone, the clacking of his shoes stopping momentarily while treading across the Sonora carpet and then it could still be heard through the shut door of Vash's room, albeit muffled.

When Roderich left, the IPA agent conducted a more thorough investiagaton of his room. It was on the second floor, not too high, not too low. There was one wide window, with thick curtains that would be sure not to let any sunlight in so Vash wished it, and it locked from the inside. After a rapid succession of knocks, Vash concluded it to be made of plexiglass. There were two vents, one in each section of the room. Only about 10 feet above the ground, same size as the one's in the lounging area.

Vash went over to the wardrobe and yanked open the wooden doors. A quick search revealed 4 drawers with a 5th hidden compartment. He could use that. The bodyguard grabbed the duffle bag that held his weapons and began taking out all of his weapons. He had a total of 5 guns, 2 knifes, and (in case things got really bad) a smoke grenade and a stun grenade. His guns consisted of one sniper rifle, two Glock 9MMs, one Beretta and one revolver. The revolver was a Colt Python, his very first gun, and one that had gotten him out of some hairy situations as well. That treasure he placed underneath his pillow, while the others were hidden in various other places around the room, hidden but still accessible.

Satisfied with everything, the blonde agent plopped on his bed with a disbelieving sigh. To think he was actually a temporary ward in the home of his idol. Speaking of which, he didn't know what to think of the man yet. Roderich Edelstein was...unexpected. His countenance was a bit standoffish but not particularly rude, definitely wary. It was most likely nerves, Vash concluded. The brunet wasn't used to people knowing exactly who he was, and judging by the nondisclosure agreement IPA had him sign, he was sure that the musician absolutely abhorred the idea of someone knowing his identity. So in the end Vash didn't let Roderich's slight attitude get to him. They had only known each other for a few short minutes after all, and not only that but soon they would be in the same room eating lunch and conversing.

Oh yes, Vash thought with a wide smile, he would be with his idol in just a few short hours. With nothing else to do until then, he decided that his favorite hobby of meditation would suffice to not only pass the time but also calm his nerves. The bodyguard lowered himself to the plush flooring, crossed his legs, and took a few deeps breaths to try and clear his mind. Keyword: try.

**oOoOo**

Immediately after closing the door to his employee's new room, Roderich let out a sigh. He didn't know what it was about the blonde that within only a few minutes of knowing him made the musician edgy. Vash Zwingli was...unexpected. Not just his appearance, but also his mannerisms were also strange and unfamiliar. It had been a while since the brunet had a new employee to treat him with such a wide berth between them. Julian was his most recent employee excluding the IPA agent, but his young age made it easy for the maid to relax around the celebrity and soon it was clear to everyone that the employer/employee relationship between them was more like a parent/child though none would dare say it out loud.

With nothing else to do until noon, Roderich decided to go through his fanmail. All mail was assigned to a P.O box in another city that was picked up by Mark every week when he wasn't busy driving the musician around. It was a fun pastime for him, knowing just what his fans thought of him and his music. Sure some weren't so positive, but none were quite so threating until a few weeks ago when the first of the death threats starting coming in.

Roderich didn't think much of it, but his boss immediately went to find a personal bodyguard for Gentosha Inc's most famous employee. Mikkel went through several establishments before finding the Intercontinental Protection Agency. He sent in a request for the best and they sent him a file for Vash. Mikkel thought that of anyone could keep the wayward musician in line then Vash Zwingli could, not that Roderich knew of his boss's reasoning of course.

"Maria," Roderich called to a passing maid.

"Yes, Sir?" the petite black haired maid said politely, turning around to face her employer.

"Can you bring the fanmail box to the library, please?"

She nodded and went to turn around to do her boss's bidding, but he stopped her.

"What happened to your uniform?" the brunet asked, looking at the added ruffles and purple lining, he had his suspicions but...

"Jillian said you gave him permission to alter everyone's uniform," Maria answered, not at all conflicted by the use of the other's female name but still referring to him as a him.

Roderich gave a bone wary sigh that had the maid pressing her lips together to keep a laugh in. "Of course he did."

"Is that all, Sir?"

"Yes, thank you."

While the Maria went off to get the fanmail, Roderich went to the kitchen first to get something to drink and then he also made his way to the library. The aforementioned box was already placed on the coffee table next to the lone navy blue suede love seat in the room. He sat down and went through the box one letter at a time. Most were were the normal 'Will you marry me's he was used to and the occasional 'Your music sucks's but that didn't deter the musician. There were even a few drawings of what they thought he might look like, none of them even close, but it was amusing all the same. By far his favorite letters were the one's from children, those apprising to be just like him. One in particular had him smiling widely.

_Dear Mr. Edelstein_

_My name's Austin and I'm 9 years old._

_I really really like hearing your music, especially the few ones on the violin._

_I told my mom that I wanted a violin for my birthday this year, and she says that if I get good grades she'll even pay for lessons!_

_So I'm studying hard now, well, I was studying hard before, but now it's like super harder studying._

_And then I'll get the lessons and become awesome at playing the violin._

_Someday I hope we can play together on a big stage!_

_Thank you for taking time to read this_

_Austin_

_P.S Do girls like violin players?_

Roderich received a few more that lifted his spirits before he got one that lowered them again. One red envelope was addressed to Mr. Home wrecker and he frowned, not even bothering to open it and just set it aside to be archived. Per his boss's request, he kept all of the death threats from the disgruntled husband and they would be used as evidence if it ever came to a trail with the man. The musician thought it was all a hassle, but placated Mikkel for the sake of his own sanity.

By the time the celebrity got to the bottom of the box a few hours had gone past. His drink was long gone and his stomach was growling slightly. He looked at his watch and was pleased to see that it was a quarter til noon. Streching his muscles that had gone tense from his stationary position, he contemplated going upstairs to get the bodyguard himself or just following his previous plans and just sending a maid. The choice was made for him when Julian stopped by the huge library doors and asked if he could bring the new employee down. Roderich was surprised by the request, but granted it nonetheless telling Julian to bring the man to the sun room.

Slightly confused, the brunet walked out of the library, leaving the letters to be packed away. He made his way to the aforementioned sun room of the estate where he had chosen to have lunch with the blonde. The sun room was close in color scheme to Vash's room, greens and browns scattered around the medium-sized room. The furniture in the room consisted of a bookshelf, a brown 3 seat sofa, a low coffee table in front of it and a larger table with 4 chairs off to the other side by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Roderich spent a lot of his time here just thinking or relaxing. The sun was in perfect position to heat up the room, but also for it's rays to not be glaring them in the eyes.

Roderich took seat at the table and waited for his employee to arrive. He didn't have to wait long, in a few minutes Julian's loud voice was filling the room.

"Got him," he shouted though the musician was only a meter away. "He's was mediating."

"Meditating," Vash corrected the maid.

"He was totally talking to spirits in, like, a voodoo language. Can you say creepy?"

"I was talking to myself in Mandarin," the blonde protested.

"That's even worse. Are you sure you want this wacko guarding you, Boss?"

Roderich bit back a snort, and it came out like a cough instead. "Manners, Jillian," he chided. "And I think he'll manage. Go tell the chef we are ready."

Julian gave Vash a deliberately slow once over and let out a dramatic 'hmph' and turned on his heel, silver braids making an arch around him before they fell as he walked off.

"Manners," Roderich reminded him sternly before sighing. "And we'll talk about what you did to those uniforms later." Julian only laughed and sped up his pace. The musician rolled his eyes affectionately and turned towards the bodyguard who was staring at Julian's retreating back with a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

"How old is she?" Vash asked as the maid ran off giggling, she couldn't have been more than 16, and she acted a bit...immature for lack of a better word.

"He's 15," Roderich replied. The blonde man nodded, his assumptions correct. Then his employer's words reached his brain. Wait...

"He?"

"Yeah," Roderich looked up at and saw one eyebrow was raised in question, the only emotion being shown on the other's blank face.

"It's not like what ever it is you're thinking," Roderich snapped, a bit offended. He calmed himself when the eyebrow slowly went back to its original state. "It's a long story."

Vash pointedly looked at the empty table to show they had time and the brunet sighed.

"I thought he was a girl when we first met, actually weeks after that too. I saw him out on the street trying to sell his original art. I offered him a job at my estate. He refused at first, but a week later after a sudden rainstorm I found him again and repeated my offer. He accepted. Since he was an artist I figured he could handle being a maid, keeping my estsate in its pristine condition. For nearly a month I had no idea that she was in fact not a she until I stumbled onto him changing from a spill on his blouse. I offered to get him a proper uniform, but he refused, saying that it helped him express himself."

Both of Vash's eyebrows rose and then he nodded in understanding.

"I didn't see a problem with it so I let him do as he wished. His real name is Julian, but old habits die hard and most of us just call him Jillian, he doesn't mind. All the maids love him and as you can see, the estate is his playground. He's constantly 'experimenting' or something or other. He's juvenile, yes, but...he's a good kid," Roderich finished, his face softening just a bit, enough for Vash to notice.

"Parents?" the IPA agent had to ask.

"None that he would tell me of. I guess that's probably another reason why I felt compelled to take him in," Roderich mused quietly. "One orphan to another." The last part mumbled seemingly to himself and Vash didn't know how to comment on that. The blonde didn't have time to, however, because at that time the door to the sun room opened and a black haired maid came in pushing a covered cart. The wheels stopped once the cart was close enough to the table and the cover was lifted.

"I hope this is acceptable. Your file said you didn't mind simple meals as long as it wasn't 50% grease."

The corner of Vash's lips twitched just a bit while looking at the soup, salad, and sandwiches that covered the tray. "That's true, and this is fine. Thank you, Mr. Edelstein."

The maid took that as her cue to set the plates on the table, once she was done she gave a polite bow. "Lunch is served, Sir."

"Thank you, Maria," Roderich replied to which the maid bowed once more and retreated from the room.

There was a comfortable silence between the two as each got busy eating their food. Vash raised an eyebrow when the other had used a fork to pick up the sandwich, but said nothing. Likewise Roderich didn't comment on the fact that Vash's salad had more tomatoes than lettuce. To each his own.

"I noticed something," the bodyguard spoke up after a few moments of relative quiet. Roderich raised an eyebrow in question. The bodyguard had only been here a few hours, what could he have possibly noticed? Vash took the sign to continue. "Your maid called you Sir, but Haas calls you Master."

Well that was an easy question to answer. "Haas has been my caretaker since I was young. He worked for my parents, and when they died he became my official guardian. When I was younger it was 'Young Master' but now that I am grown the title is 'Master.' I told him it was strange and he could call me by my given name, but..." Roderich shrugged. "Again, old habits die hard."

Vash nodded, taking in all that the other revealed. After a few more moments of silence, Roderich spoke up again about the original reason for their little get together lunch.

"So about your contract," Roderich started.

"Live in for an undeterminded amount of time," Vash rattled off. "Required to attend all interviews, autograph session, concerts, and even business meetings."

"I apologize in advance for that one," the musician joked. No way would the boisterous and rowdy Mathais Køhler and the tacit and stoic Vash Zwingli mix well. Actually now that Roderich thinks about it, he can't wait to see what would surely be a hilarious sight. "I assume you know why I need you as well."

Vash nodded. "Death threats from a fan's husband or well ex-husband."

"Ridiculous, I know. Mathias is so paranoid."

"Not really."

The brunet's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "He's not? They're just a bunch of ill written letters." Roderich reasoned.

"For now maybe."

"You think this guy will really try to kill me? Over a divorce he believes I was somehow a cause of?"

Vash couldn't blame the other for being dubious, but it didn't negate the fact that other's have killed for less. "There are strange people in this world, and believe me when I say that in my field of work I've already met a lot of them. Mr. Køhler is just worried about you and by hiring me, he's just being cautious."

"Better safe than sorry," Roderich muttered sullenly and his bodyguard fought to keep the smirk off his face when hearing that tone. Instead he used the soup in front of him to keep his mouth busy. A few spoonfuls later, Roderich once again broke the silence.

"What made you join the Intercontinental Protection Agency?" the brunet asked suddenly, trying to understand a little more about his new employee. He had answered the other's question's truthfully as well as shared more with him than anyone else with the exception of his boss, so the musician felt entitled to the same treatment.

That gave the blonde pause as he thought about his answer. Why did he decide to join IPA? "I guess..." Vash started. "It was because I've always hated seeing other people hurt." Voilet eyes were now trained on the agent, soaking in the rare moment that the other wasn't quite so robotic in his replies. "Those who couldn't defend themselves, I would step in and do what I could to protect them."

"Was it your first choice?" Roderich inquired when the other stopped talking.

"I actually thought about going to a police academy, but I came across IPA and the thought of traveling appealed to me. Not to mention the academy taught us a lot of extra skills."

"Like..."

"Another language for one thing."

"Ah, voodoo language?" Roderich teased and he actually got a laughing smile from the other. The musician took a mental picture of the sight because it was rare, and if Roderich was honest, beautiful. All too soon it melted away into the blonde's usual neutral expression, but the other wasn't so annoyed this time.

"Why did you join the music profession?" Vash asked his own question. It didn't take long for Roderich to think of his answer.

"I don't remember much about my birth parents, but apparently they started me on violin lessons early on. My adoptive parents had encouraged my practices, but also had me to learn piano and clarinet as well. When they died, I received this estate along with all the musical instruments in their possession. My first night here I wrote _Mourning Heart, _a tribute to those I had lost. I didn't really think about making music a career until I came across Yiruma, a Japanese pianist who's music resounded with me, that I started to think that maybe I could do the same. Maybe I could make people _feel_ my music, empathize with the tones."

"Well you succeeded."

"Yeah, apparently a little too well." Roderich gave his employee a bittersweet smile. There were no more words exchanged after that, and the plates were clear of food rather quickly. When the last of the salad was swallowed the musician rose from the table.

"You can spend the rest of this day how ever you wish, same with tomorrow after the tour. The next day, however, I have a radio interview that you'll need to accompany me with."

"How does that work?" the IPA agent felt compelled to ask, getting up as well.

"I'll be in a separate room, but even then I'll have on a disguise."

Interesting, Vash thought to himself. "I thank you for this opportunity to work for you, Mr. Edelstein."

"No need, just do your job. Hopefully it shouldn't take too long to catch this maniac."

Vash nodded, but he couldn't help but feel that he wouldn't mind it taking so long, if it mean the could spend the time getting to know the man across from him.

* * *

**Next chapter preview:**

_"Oh my god, I'm NOT asking him that," the main female was saying, and I didn't like the sound of that._

_"No way, that's just too...okay, okay, fine! Um...Mr. Edelstein?"_

_"Yes," I said politely, though my nerves were going haywire. I just knew I wouldn't like what the question would be._

_"Have you ever...ma-masturbated?"_

**Reviews please**


	6. Surprises

_ Sorry sorry sorry for the long wait, Chick-a-dees. I had a deadline to finish for my PruCan Holiday Series, and then there was the anime convention to prepare for which led to A LOT of sleep deprivation both before and during the event, and then I had to move...but *takes a deep breath* Anyhoo, a special thanks to my reviewers: **Tenshi black 101, **_

_**SecretKeeper250 (**You'd be surprised at the kinds of things that people ask**), and **_

_**KittiBell (**The slow-build is dreadful, I know, but I've read stories where even hints of the romance didn't happen until 50 chapters in. I won't do that to you guys though. In fact, you may remember parts of this chapter**)**_

_As well as those who favorited or followed. Here's an extra long chapter. __E__njoy~_

**Disclaimer: ****Flying Mint Bunny! Confused? Good, I was wondering if anyone actually read the disclaimers I put up here. This does not belong to me, all characters are owned by Gentosha Inc. Those idea hogging bastards**

* * *

**Roderich POV**

Two days later I found myself in front of my vanity's mirror, hiding my hair underneath a purple beanie. Not my first choice in headgear, but it did it's job by hiding all strands of my brown hair. The rest of my wardrobe consisted of a black overcoat covering my plain white button up shirt with dark blue jeans that rested on black loafers. To finish off the look, I rested a pair of prescription sunglasses and a navy blue knitted scarf. It was my 'incognito' outfit, and if it wasn't the middle of Autumn then it would have been hard to get away with all the layers.

I had my radio interview in less than two hours and it was imperative that if word got out what time the interview would be happening, then my body and face would at least be mostly covered. It was my second on-air interview so far. Since my third album had hit the charts, Mikkel was all about promotion, something to give the fans. Having my face plastered everywhere was out of the question, of course, but in the end we compromised for a supervised interview on the air of a fairly popular local radio station. It was a success, but only because the questions were pre-screened. This time however, the audience would be calling into the radio station to ask their own questions. I could just see how well that would turn out. After I deemed myself unrecognizable (not that anyone knew my true face anyway), I left my room in search for my new employee.

We didn't see much of each other yesterday, since Maria, one of my maids, conducted the tour. Haas was too busy making sure that the estate was functioning effectively to do it himself, and I spent most of the day prepping myself for the interview. Not wanting to be caught off guard with a random question, I made sure to have answers for even the most obtuse questions like my favorite ice-cream flavor (Chai Cinnamon). Julian was also out of the question for the task; the little tyrant would have probably drove the blonde crazy by asking him questions like if he had ever killed anyone before.

Speaking of the silver-haired maid, my steps faltered as I caught sight of what used to be a decorative white sofa with a gold trim and matching throw pillows. Before me now stood the same white and gold futon, but the pillows were covered in sparkling jewels. Bedazzled, if I remembered the term correctly. Yes, the pillows were bedazzled into the familiar pattern of Edelweiss, my home country's national flower. The same flower that hung around the estate filling it with its honey-like fragrance. Admittedly, the design was well done, but having 3 of the same pattern together was slightly gaudy and a bit of an eyesore.

Deciding that I didn't need to see Vash immediately, I chose to go down to the lower levels of my estate where the extra pillows were kept in case of an accident. I thought it would be best to just have one bedazzled pillow surrounded by two plain ones for emphasis, so I would switch two of the newly patterned pillows and then find another place for them later.

It took me a good couple of minutes to find the room that housed the pillows (in my defense, Haas usually replaces any pillows that are damaged before I even see them). The pillow room was literally a room full of pillow duplicates from various parts of the estate, separated by main color. I quickly grabbed two pillows that matched the ones upstairs and was in the process of shutting the door to the room closed when I heard a foreign sound. A loud thwack of something being struck and then the clatter of chains.

I paused with the pillows in hand, trying to remember if it was the indoor racquetball court or the mini-golf course were housed on that end of the wing. After another sound permented the air, I decided to just go investigate for myself.

Yes, just like every idiot in a B horror movie, I went towards the sound.

The sound grew louder and more clear with each step; broken grunts could now be heard as well. Finally, I reached the source of the noise...and promptly stopped in my tracks. The sight wasn't horrifying, but it made my breath catch in my throat and heart beat faster nonetheless.

I found myself standing frozen at the entrance of my mini dojo. Around the age of 10, when it was clear that I didn't have a single fighting bone in my body, my adoptive parents made sure I at least knew the basics of how to defend myself. One week later I had my own little matted dojo and a sifu to teach me. The lessons stopped after a year, however, when my teacher had to return home to take over the family business. I hadn't used the dojo since, but I'm sure the maids still kept it in pristine condition.

However, the immaculate state of the dojo wasn't what my eyes were focused on.

Oh, no, not even close, and I was grateful that my sunglasses were the type to change tint based on the light filtered in and I could take in the sight quite clearly.

In front of my very eyes was my new bodyguard, shirtless, repeatedly striking a punching bag, shirtless, muscles flexing in the artificial light that I could see because he was shirtless. Did I mention he was shirtless?

My arms tightened unconsciously around the pillows I carried as my eyes followed the beads of sweat that traveled down the shorter man's toned back, dipping along every vertebrae until it stopped at the _low _waistline of his black sweatpants. Another strike against the punching bag drew my eyes away, and I watched transfixed as the blonde ducked and weaved about the immobile structure. Feign left, go right, kick, duck, punch, jump back, drive forward. It was a beautiful dance to watch and I was struck by his lightening quick movements.

If there was ever a doubt in my about him being able to protect me, they were eliminated then and there.

I don't know how long I watched him, my eyes alternating between viewing him as a whole and individual parts of his body. Goodness, how I wished I was an artist of a different medium and could sketch the contours of his musculature. Although fortunately, or unfortunately depending how you look at it, the images were already burned into my retinas. It was only when the noise stopped that I realized that I had spaced out and he was apparently finished with his training. A towel was now wrapped around his neck, and a water bottle was in his hands to quench his thirst. But he wasn't drinking it.

No, he was staring at me.

**Vash POV**

Two days later, I found myself finally about to start my first assignment. While I appreciated the day off, I was a take-action type of guy and hated being idle. So when it was a few hours before my charge would need to go to the radio station to conduct an interview, I took the imitative to get breakfast for myself, finding the kitchen more easily after being shown the way.

Yeah, the tour the previous day was really helpful. The estate was too big for it's own good (I mean really, who needs a room full of just pillows?). It helped to get to know the layout of the lands, as well as the staff there. The security team were admirable, dedicated professionals who actual loved there job; the best kind there is. It also seemed that Roderich was a great boss to them and was well liked and respected. That was actually something I noticed even on the first day. The atmosphere around the estate was nearly family-like. It made sense that since the musician was a private man with only those around him who knew his true identity, then of course they would forge strong bonds between them all.

So all-in-all, I learned many things from the tour. One thing I was pleasantly surprised to discover was a small dojo. It looked out of place among the indoor racketball courts and mini-golf courses that littered the lower levels, but it was as clean as any other part of the house. Which I found a bit strange, since the Roderich didn't seem like the martial arts type who trained on a regular basis. But, hey, you can't judge a book by its cover. I headed there after a quick and simple breakfast.

I did the first part of my usual warm up, rolling all of my joints before changing it up and knocking out 50 push-ups and 100 sit-ups before stretching until my muscles were nice and loose. I took off my shirt so it wouldn't constrict any of my movements and then walked over to the Mu Ren Zhuang or wooden dummy that the room housed, bending my knees in preparation. Striking the wooden pegs became a practiced motion long ago, and it didn't take much to turn my brain off and just hit the dummy repeatedly. As with any workout, the time flew by with me switching between striking wood, punching and kicking the punching bag that hung close by, and just training alone in the middle of the mat.

It was when I was back on the punching bag rotation that I first heard the steps. I continued in my motions, however, and used my constant motions to observe my guest secretly. When I circled the bag, I saw that the person (definitely a man) was tall and had most of his features covered save the eyes that were magnified by his glasses. Even though I couldn't see much else, I knew it was my employer by those striking violet eyes. My observation took less than second and then my back was to him once more; never once did my movements falter. I waited for him to speak, but he never did so I continued to train, hitting the bag a little bit harder than necessary and making the chains rattle noisily.

Okay, I'll admit that I was putting on a show. Most people only see my short stature and doubt that I could do any damage, and it's satisfying proving them wrong. Not that I believed Roderich thought the same, but it didn't hurt to show him that he was in good hands. So I preformed for the brunet, making sure my strikes were precise and efficient until a familiar soreness started to blossom along my trapezium.

I stopped, slightly out of breath, and stretched out my muscles. I relished in the ache I could feel; nothing agonizing or anything that would hinder my work for later in the day, but just proof that it was a good workout. I grabbed the hand towel and water bottle I brought down with me from the floor, swinging the towel around my shoulders and bringing the bottle up to my lips to take a sip. However, without my consent the bottle paused on it's way to my mouth and lowered again as I fully took in the other man.

Not mentioning the white pillows clutched to his chest for some reason, his "disguise" was a deep purple beanie that all his brown hair was tucked securely into, a navy blue scarf that hid his lower face, and sunglasses that for now were not tinted, easily showing that he was staring at me. Actually, was _s__till_ staring at me.

So I stared back, waiting to see if he would break the silence first. To see if there was some reason he came downstairs to find me or if he just stumbled across me by accident. After a few more seconds he seemed to flinch out of his thoughts and blinked rapidly a few times. I watched with interest as his eyes flit the room in confusion, adopting a lost puppy look on his face. It was...dare I say cute?

I shook my head slightly as if to rid myself of the thoughts. "Yes, Mr. Edelstein?" I prompted him to speak if only to keep my own mind from wondering.

Roderich cleared his throat and played with the gold fringe along the pillows in his arms absentmindedly as he looked everywhere but at me. "Um...I...w-we...uh," he stuttered cutely before remembering himself.

The musician returned to his usual prim air, perking up and squaring his shoulders before finally meeting my eyes. "Ah, yes. We leave in about 45 minutes, Mr. Zwingli. So you should...uh..." his eyes briefly flashed to my chest, "...wash."

The last word came out almost as a croak and I looked down in confusion to see what the cause could have been. Blinking, I took in the sight of my bare chest. I had completely forgotten that I took my shirt off before I began to train with the Mu Ren Zhuang. I raised my head and opened my mouth to apologize for my state of undress, but the other man was already out of the door.

Guilt pooled in my stomach at the realization of what just transpired. Not only did my employer see me in an unprofessional manner, but the reclusive man was probably horrified at the sight, not being used to being around half-naked men. As for me, IPA Academy took away any form of modesty I may have had. The Academy used old school communal showers, and sometimes in order to get to class on time we shared a shower head. Same with inside the dorms or locker rooms, everything was bared. We were put in squads and had to work together after all, so why be shy?

I sighed deeply, realizing I was wasting time by agonizing over the mishap and grabbed my shirt from the matted floor, putting it on before gathering the rest of my things. I headed back upstairs to my temporary room and when I got there my digital clock showed I only had half an hour before it would time for us to leave. Plenty of time to shower, dress and meet up with Roderich.

When all was done, I decided to head to the car first. Mark was already pulled up in front of the front door. The black-haired man leaned against the passenger side of an inconspicuous black sedan, flipping through a magazine. I walked up to him and nodded hello when he looked my way; he returned the gesture and then continued his browsing of the magazine. I copied his stance and leaned against the car's back door.

We stood in silence, waiting for our boss and when the man of the hour finally arrived, it was like the previous event between us never occurred. Or maybe that was because the sunglasses were now tinted and I couldn't see his normally expressive eyes. Either way it was back to the celebrity who eluded power and grace, almost making me believe that the fumbling awkward man I had met briefly was just a figment of my imagination.

"Good morning, Mr. Edelstein," I attempted to establish a bit of normalcy, raising from my perch on the side of the car.

"Good morning, Mr. Zwingli."

"Good morning, _Mr. Edelstein_," Mark said in almost a teasing tone and I watched as the other pursed his lips in annoyance and though I couldn't see it, I imagined there was a matching expression on his face as well. But in the end Roderich returned the sentiment albeit sullenly.

I didn't get a change to think about the reaction further because it was then, when the musician reached to open the door, that I remembered back to when I was first picked up and rushed to open it for him, assuming that he was used to the treatment. It was an understatement to say that I was shocked when he froze in his movements, one hand still outstretched until it slowly retracted and he accepted the gesture with a seemingly reluctant thank you.

Over the beanie-covered head of the brunet as he slipped into the sedan I caught sight of the Mark's laughing eyes, and at my questioning look he only shook his head and walked over the driver's side of the vehicle. I took that as my cue to get in the car as well and climbed into the spacious back seat along with Roderich. We were only a few feet apart, but it felt like a wide chasm. The ride was silent, and I don't know if it was just me being paranoid, but I could have sworn I felt his eyes on me from behind those darkened sunglasses.

The previous guilt intensified.

**Roderich POV**

I couldn't help but sneak glances at the blonde bodyguard that sat to the right of me. It was hard not to especially when the vivid image of those toned muscles were committed to memory. Even with cloth covering them now, it was easy to recall the way the flexed under the artificial light of the dojo. With a near silent huff, I turned my body away from my employee and pointedly looked outside of the window. Watching the scenery go past in a blur helped me to zone out a bit, and my mind went uncharacteristically blank for the rest of the ride, if only to keep myself from wayward thoughts.

We arrived without my knowledge, and I wasn't pulled out of my mind until the door that I was resting on opened, causing me to follow it and nearly fall from the car if not for the seat-belt holding me back. My sunglasses were not so fortunate and they slipped off my nose and down to the ground with a flatter.

"Oh, I apologize, _Mr. Edelstein,_" I heard Mark's laughing voice say close to my ear as he bent down to pick up the accessory.

Face red, I straightened and cast a quick glance over to where Vash was sitting, relieved to find the spot empty.

"He went ahead to make sure the way was clear for you," the driver supplied, making me turn to him with a glare.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, but I was sure he would hear. My thoughts were confirmed when he let out a exaggerated gasp.

"Why, _Mr. Edelstein_, such language! Do you speak to your new employee with that mouth?" Mark teased, blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"No, I've been...nice," I argued, although with only a little convention.

"Oh I can tell, Roddy," the black-haired man switched back to my more familiar nickname as he adopted a more casual stance against the car door. "You let him open the door for you without a comment."

"That was...it wasn't..." I tried to explain, but then gave up. Why should I explain my actions to him anyway. "You know what? You can just-"

"It's clear," Vash popped up out of nowhere, interrupting our conversation and startling us both.

I recovered first, taking the sunglasses that still rested in the driver's hand and placed them on the bridge of my nose. I checked myself over, making sure every feature was concealed before unbuckling my seat-belt and exiting the sedan, leaving Mark behind to take care of anything I might need after the interview. With the IPA agent by my side, I made my way through the underground parking garage and over to where I knew the elevators were. When we reached the floor where the radio station conducted interviews, there was already a staff member waiting for us. Without a word we were led to a separate room, shielded from the rest of the studio by opaque glass where one could barely see the outline of the equipment let alone a person.

I stepped inside and the door started to close behind me, Vash opting to stand guard outside of the door. I heard the low warning of "no cellphones" before the door shut firmly. The blonde's caution made me smile a little bit. It was completely unfounded when the glass did a great job at obscuring my already covered facial features, but the concern was...dare I say cute?

With a nearly silent snort at my thoughts, I turned towards the interior of the room. There wasn't much, a table with a microphone that I assumed I was supposed to use, a chair for me to sit in and a water bottle that also sat on the table.

"Can you hear me, Mr. Edelstein?" I heard the familiar jovial voice the radio announcer call suddenly from the overhead speakers in the room. Tobias, I believe his name was.

"Yes?" I asked rather then stated, trying and failing not to look silly as I talked to the ceiling.

"Okay, good. As I'm sure you know, this is a random call interview with your fans. All questions they ask are completely up to them, however, it's your choice if you wish to answer them or not. Is that okay with you?"

"If it wasn't I wouldn't be here," I told him simply without any bite to my words. That was an utter lie, of course. Mikkel would have found a way to pressure me into agreeing anyway. He was a little _too_ good at that.

"Well, alrighty then! We're scheduled to start in 10 minutes, so you have some time to kill. If you need anything, I can send a staff member to get it for you and if you want your short and intimidating bodyguard who is now staring at me with emotionless green eyes will bring it in. Is that also okay?"

I had to laugh at his words, especially when they got faster the more he described Vash. "Th-that's fine," I managed to get out after I controlled myself. "I could use some tea if you have any."

"Thank god, Jenny's on her Asian kick," Tobias laughed. "We have Jasmine, Chamomile, Lemon, Gren Tea, Oolong, English Breakfast Tea-"

"English Breakfast Tea will do, thank you." I did enjoy the taste of the black tea.

"It'll only be a moment."

"Thank you."

There was silence as the feed was cut and I sat down in the offered chair, waited patiently for the tea. It was only a few minutes until someone knocked on the door to the room three distinct times.

"Mr. Edelstein?" Vash's familiar deep baritone reached me, and I rolled my eyes. Like he even has to knock.

"Come in," I granted him access.

The blonde slipped in and shut the door behind him, a steaming white mug in his hands. He placed it in front of me on the table and I uttered my thanks. I expected him to leave immediately, but to my surprise he stayed, his body tense beside me. I turned my head to look up at him and noticed the hesitant look in his green eyes. He looked like he desperately wanted to say something to me, but didn't know how to say it.

"Yes?" I prompted him, curious to know what got the stoic agent tongue-tied. I watched as he bit his lip in consideration, the first sign of nerves I had ever seen from the other man. Then a moment later he nodded, seemingly to himself, and opened his mouth...only to be interrupted by Tobias from the speakers.

"We're on in one minute, Mr. Edelstein. Get ready."

I answered in the affirmative and out of the corner of my eye watched as Vash slipped away silently. At his abrupt departure, I felt a brief feeling of sadness, but it didn't last long as nerves soon gave way and I realized that I would be interacting with my fans for the first time ever. And all too soon Tobais was counting down from five, making my heart beat faster with each second.

"2...1...and Goooood morning, everyone! Tobias here and boy do I have a treat for you. I have Roderich Edelstein, that's right _The _Roderich Edelstein, in my station today for a call-in only interview! You heard me, Mr. Edelstein will be answering call-in questions, so all you females out their who want to know if he's a boxer or brief kind of guy, call into the station and we'll get you patched right through. Oh look, we already have a caller," Tobias laughed. "I'll put them on now." There was a resounding click and then a hesitant female voice came through.

"H-hello?"

"Yes, First Caller, what question do you have for the classical musician today?" the radio announcer drawled.

"Mr. Edelstein?" the female called out and I took that as my cue to join in the conversation.

"Yes?"

The was a pause as the caller came to terms with the fact that is was indeed me on the line, and when she did it took all my willpower not to laugh.

"Oh my god, your voice sounds hot. I-I mean...um...yeah, no I meant hot. God, why don't you sing and play the piano?" the female muttered.

"Is that your question, ma'am?" I asked, unable to keep the laughter from my tone.

"Wha..uh..no! Sorry, I...no, that's wasn't it. My question is actually less fanatic if you can believe me. I wanted to know if you have pieces of your work that you like to play on different instruments."

Well, that was relatively easy to answer and I told her that yes, I did, and I was even considering making a separate album just for those few. She replied with a promise to buy it if the idea did come to be. I thanked her, both for the question and her continued support of my work and she hung up happily. Her call left me in high spirits, lessening the fear of being caught unawares. Many of the other callers were actually just as kind, a great mix of both male and female fans that asked fairly intellectual questions instead of the weird ones that many are prone to subject celebrities to. Although, one did want to know the answer to the question the radio announcer oh-so-helpfully presented earlier (briefs, if you truly must know). It didn't really get awkward until one call was answered with a squeal.

"Oh my god it's him, IT'S HIM!"

I winced at the loud volume, barely making out that there was another person in the background and the female was not squealing excitedly with herself.

"Oh my god, I'm NOT asking him that," the main female was saying, and I didn't like the sound of that.

"No way, that's just too...okay, okay, fine! Um...Mr. Edelstein?"

"Yes," I said politely, though my nerves were going haywire. I just knew I wouldn't like what the question would be.

"Have you ever...ma-masturbated?"

I shouldn't have been surprised, really, I shouldn't have, but people never cease amaze me. There was silence as everyone waited for my reaction. Truly, I was stumped. Not just the shock of the insanely personal question, but also because...I actually had to think about that.

During my youth I was more into musical instruments than girls, and while most teenage boys were sneaking out past curfew to met with girls, I was staying up an extra hour to practice. Of course biology was biology and I began to have urges, much to my shock and horror until I realized it was normal and that led to a few experiments...but that was a while ago.

All this was running through my head, so I blame my preoccupied mind for what came out of my mouth next.

"Not recently, no," I answered absentmindedly, and there was a pregnant pause before the speakers erupted in high pitched screams. Thankfully Tobias shut them off with a 'Thank you for calling,' and cut the connection before they could do everlasting damage to my eardrums.

Heat warmed my cheeks as I realized what I had just admitted to, and on the public radio station no less. Oh, Mikkel was going to have a field day with that slip up.

"Oooookay, that's more information I needed to know about what you do with your hands. One more caller, folks," Tobias continued without pause, "and then I'm afraid it's time for Mr. Edelstein to go." A near-silent click caused a chorus of prerecorded 'Aww's filled the air followed by another click and Tobias welcomed the caller. "Okay, this is the final question for the classical musician, so make it a good one, Last Caller."

Nothing but heavy breathing could be heard in response.

"Last Caller?" Tobias called hesitantly and I felt uneasy at the continued huffs of breath. "Hun, I guess it was a miscall," the radio announcer said. "Okay, then I'd like to thank Mr-

"Mr. Edelstein," a voice suddenly interrupted. "I have a question for you." The voice was low, nearly a snarl and it made me pause, before blinking and straightening up in my seat as if the caller could actually see me.

"O-okay?" I stuttered and then mentally cursed myself for doing so. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yes, I'll hear your question," I finished politely.

"My question is simple really," the person who I could definitely judge to be male drawled. "I just want to know how it feels?"

I blink a few more times, not understanding the question. How it feels to play music? Be famous? Never show my face? "How...what feels, sir?" I asked, although I wasn't sure I even wanted to know.

"How it feels to ruin a perfectly good relationship with your music."

The line went quiet as he let me process the ill-spoken words. I opened and closed my mouth a few times in shock as I realized just who I was in contact with.

"I'm sorry," I started off firmly, better to get that misunderstanding out of the way now. "I don't know how you came to that assumption, but I've never-"

"She _left me_ because of your music. We were _happy_ until you-"

"I don't know what you're talking abou-" I had to raise my own voice slightly to be heard over the man's loud ranting.

"But that's okay," he cut me off and goose bumps rose on my flesh as his voice took on a 'calm before the storm' tone. "That's okay, because I'm going to find you and-"

_click_

"Aaaaannnnnd that's all folks," Tobias cut in smoothly after disconnecting the call, a nervous laughter following his words. "I'd ask what all that was, but I don't think anyone had a clue what that wackjob was talking about. As I said, that was the last caller we were accepting, unfortunately. What a way to sign off, right?" The radio announcer laughed at his own quip. "Once again, I'd like to thank Mr. Edelstein from taking time out of his busy schedule to conduct this interview/interrogation by his fans. This is Tobias, bringing you want you want...when you want it. Have a good day everyone and enjoy this jingle while I see my guest out. Well, not see, but...you know what I meant. Tune in next time!"

I sat back heavily into my chair as the popular tune of Uptown Funk started playing, not even noticing that my bodyguard had come in halfway through my argument with the mysterious man on-air and was standing by the door with his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure.

It was different from the letters. Written words were easy to laugh of and ignore while I did more important things. But actually hearing his voice and the hatred in it was something else entirely. It was something I had never encountered it before and I was honestly a bit freaked out by it. No, it was more than that and I rose a shaky hand to my mouth as realization took over.

I was scared.

* * *

**Finally actual plot, and a bit of slow build between the two of them. **

**Next chapter preview:**

_The teen squared his shoulders before staring me straight in the eye. __"You'll protect him, right?"_

_My eyes widened slightly in shock before narrowing in slight anger. "Of course," I told him, my tone a bit clipped. Just who did he think I was?_

_"At all times? Whenever he goes out?" Violet orbs, slightly lighter than a certain musician's, stared imploringly at me and it took me a minute to realize that he wasn't insulting my skills. He was just worried about his employer, and m__y eyes softened at my discovery. _

_"I won't let anything happen to him," I promised._

**Reviews make my muse happy and a happy muse means faster updates...usually**


	7. Promises

_I'm back in action, Chick-a-dees. Time is o-so-fleeting and before I knew it almost a month has gone past, so here's another chapter! As usual, a special thanks to my reviewers:_

**_The Forgotten Traveller (_**_Usually I give the long and love filled reviews, so it's nice to be on the opposite end this time. Thanks_**_) and_**

**_Miztsi (_**_I call them SwissAus, but I'm starting to like Edelwiess XP_**_)_**

_As well as everyone who favorite and followed this story. I'm sure everyone wants to read about Vash's reaction to the interview, so without further ado, e__njoy~_

**Disclaimer: I Write Sins Not Tragedies...is the song I was listening to when I wrote this. Gotta love P!ATD. Anyhoo, randomness aside, I do not own the rights to these characters. Except the staff (excluding Julian). They are mine**

* * *

**Vash's POV**

Roderich didn't utter a single word the whole walk back to the garage. Not that I expected him to, but it was an indicator of his state of mind at the moment. I could tell that he was shaken, the tenseness of his shoulders and the furtive glances he cast about were telltale signs. It made me angry. Not at the musician, oh no, but at whoever was threatening the man. It annoyed me how deranged some people could be.

Now, I've met and guarded a lot of people in my line of work from political figures and foreign nationals visiting a new country to Hollywood starlets and people in witness protection programs. Humanitarians were by far my favorite type of people to guard. Those who went out of their way to make the world a better place despite those who ridicule them or the lack of faith from everyone else. They gave me hope for the human race; that not everyone I meet is either insane or stupid. And then there were the artists, like my employer. The ones who have a passion for creating and they share that passion with the rest of the world. I like guarding them as well.

It would be an understatement to say I was happy when I saw Roderich Edelstein printed in Impact font on the first page of my mission brief. Something I would never tell him (or anyone else for that matter) was that I listened to his music after every mission I returned from. C_limbing out of __the Abyss _was a personal favorite of mine. If I had to describe it by sound alone it was haunting at first, but then it turned into a beautiful melody towards the end. It reminded me of so many missions started started out horrible, but ended up with everyone safe and alive. It was a work of genius, truly.

Roderich was just so incredible, and I felt that spike of anger again when I thought about how unfair it was that he had to deal with a delusional ex-husband of one of his fans. He shouldn't have to...and he won't anymore. Not while he was under my care.

With my mouth set in a grim line, I vowed to myself that I would make sure that no harm would come to him.

While I was having an internal rant, we got closer and closer to where the black sedan was parked. Mark was already by the car waiting and judging by the frown on his face he had most likely heard the broadcast and what had transpired. The musician walked up to his side of the car and stopped. We watched in confusion as he only stared at the door handle as if it would just open from his willpower alone. Hesitantly, the driver reached over and opened the door for the brunet. With a distracted nod, Roderich climbed into the vehicle.

There was a brief but no less prominent pang in the center of my chest at the sight. I cast a slightly worried glance at the black haired employee but his expression reflected my own. Mark took a deep calming breath and then climbed into the driver's seat, closing the door with a soft thump. After a moment, I followed in both of their steps and climbed into the car as well.

The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not even the radio was playing inside the vehicle. The second thing I noticed was that Roderich sat away from me, similar to how we arrived, but I knew that his thoughts were not on the same thing this time.

"Did you still want to go out for lunch, Roddy?" Mark's sudden voice startled both of us even though it was a soft tone.

Before I could wonder who Roddy was, the brunet next to me answered, his voice low and tired. "No, let's just go home."

Silence once again filled the back seat, and while part of my mind was focused on the non-professional way the driver addressed our employer, a bigger part was focused on said employer. I glanced at him from out of my peripherals. His body was still tense, a bit hunched as if he wanted to curl into himself. His arms were folded across his chest and his fingers kept fiddling with the thick fabric of his overcoat. It was strange; the sudden urge to comfort that welled within me.

I had a sudden thought of taking him into my arms, tucking his head under my chin and hugging him close, but banished it from my mind just as quickly as it came. The thought alone was breaking protocol. Instead, I decided to reassure him that I wouldn't let anything happen to him. Resolved, I turned towards him and opened my mouth, only to close it again. The words were stuck in my throat. How was I even supposed to start the conversation?

Well, I guess getting his attention first couldn't hurt.

"Mr. Edelstein?" I called out my voice low. When he didn't respond I tried it again a little bit louder, and he jumped as if I electrocuted him, turning towards me hesitantly.

"Y-yes?" He stuttered, not unfolding his arms. The caution he exhibited made guilt pool in my stomach and I shot him an apologetic look.

"Uh..." I started intelligently. Not that I had his attention, I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted to say. "I just wanted to say that...it won't happen."

"Excuse me?" He asked, his mouth drawn into a confused frown. I didn't blame him since I was being rather vague. Conversations weren't my strong suit, okay?

"Whatever, you're thinking right now? It won't happen. I won't let it," I told him, putting as much convention in my voice as I dared. "You have my word."

I couldn't see his eyes very well, due to the tinted glasses but I could feel them searching me. Looking for the truth perhaps? I would never know because at that moment a melodic voice interrupted us from the celebrity's coat pocket.

_The night we met I knew I needed you so,_  
_And if I had the chance I'd never let you go._  
_So won't you say you love me,_  
_I'll make you so proud of me._

I turned to give him a moment of privacy as he fumbled with the device with a blush on his face.

_So won't you, please, be my be my baby_  
_Be my little baby, my one and only-_

"Yes?" the musician answered the phone, his teeth gritted in annoyance. It was a complete 180 from his previous emotionless mood, so I was kind of glad about whoever was on the other end of the line. Roderich embodied passion and poise, and it was a bit startling to see him otherwise. Just before I turned back towards my window, I caught the grateful look in Mark's eyes when our gaze met in the rear-view mirror. I only nodded in response. There was no need for gratitude in my opinion.

After all, I was just doing my job.

**Roderich's POV**

"You have my word."

Those words shook me down to my core for some reason. They sounded so...familiar. Like it was something I heard a long time ago. Before I could think more about it, the shrill sound of "Be My Baby" sounded throughout the back seat. I groaned internally, knowing that Mikkel somehow got into my phone and changed his ringtone...again.

Face most likely red with embarrassment, I hurried to retrieve the phone from my coat pocket. "Yes?" I answered, gritting my teeth. I tried to keep the annoyance from my voice and failed.

_"Roderich, how are you?" _Came my boss's worried voice.

"I'm fine," I sighed, but those words didn't even sound convincing to my own ears.

_"Uh-hun, sure. Where's Mr. Zwingli?"_

"He's with me."

_"Good. Where are you headed now?"_

"Home."

_"Hmmm...okay. That's good, you should relax for the rest of the day."_

"I don't need-" My automatic response was cut off by the other.

_"You do and you will. I have reservations at The Florence for 8PM. I want to meet the IPA agent personally."_

"That's all?" I asked, knowing there was always more with my boss.

_"Uh...well. We'll talk about it later on tonight. See you then."_

"Likewise," I drawled even though he had already hung up after his hasty reply. I had the sneaking suspicion that there would be a lot of mother-henning from my blonde employer, and I groaned externally at the thought, pocketing my phone once more.

At once I felt like a heavy weight was lifted off my shoulders. The phone call had left me feeling more like...well, _me_ since I left the radio station. Speaking of which, now that I thought about it, the walk back to the car was a bit hazy. The call from the disgruntled ex-husband had unsettled me more than I cared to admit. Suddenly, the car seemed too silent, and my mind filled in the empty space with heavy breathing that I had heard not too long ago.

"Can you put some music on, Mark?" I called out, keeping my voice as level as I could. I could swear that the breathing got louder the longer the silence prevailed.

There was a 'Yes, Sir' and then the sedan was filled with the brilliant ballads of Yiruma. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding, and let the soothing tones of _Kiss the Rain_caress my ears. I settled back into my seat with a content hum and was about to close my eyes when movement from my peripherals caught my attention. Vash, my brain supplied helpfully as I watched him stare out of the window.

I remembered what we were talking about before the call, specifically his promise to me, and I felt my face heat up slightly as I remembered the determined look in his eyes. The heat intensified when I realized the poorly timed ringtone could have had a double meaning. Most certainly red-faced, I turned towards my own window, trying to distract myself from the unprofessional thoughts that were remnant of a pubescent girl. I nearly snorted out loud at my own thought, but managed to cover it with a cough at the last minute. I caught Mark's eyes in the rear-view mirror and I waved away his concern.

Soon we were pulling up to the gate of the estate, and after a few words with the gate guard we were let in. Mark dropped both Vash and myself by the front entrance before returning the car to the garage. I informed them both of the impending meeting later on in the day and then we parted ways with an acknowledging nod to each other. I immediately escaped to my room, and after taking off my "disguise," I looked around my room for something to do to pass the time before the meeting was scheduled to take place. True to the phrase 'spur-of-the-moment' I grabbed my violin from its stand and started playing the first few notes of _Climbing out of the Abyss._

If I was ever asked what the piece was about, I would reply honestly that it was about my life. From the death of my biological parents, my time spent in the hellish foster care system and the death of my adopted parents, to the salvation I found in musical instruments, starting my career, and the sense of accomplishment I felt from my cheering fans. It started off slow and sad, a true testimony of my life, before it transitions into a lighter and more cheerful beat to show my current happiness. I received a heartfelt letter once from a fan who explained how it helped with his depression, and I'll never forget smiling through my tears that day.

Almost as soon as the last note was strung and I lifted the bow from the violin's strings, there came a knock on my door.

"Yes?" I called lowing the instrument from underneath my chin.

"Boss? I got ya lunch," Julian shouted back through the closed door.

As if to confirm the maid's words, my stomach growled lowly. "Come in."

While I busied myself with putting the violin back in its previous place, the silver haired maid dragged in a covered lunch cart. I plopped ungracefully onto my bed and watched as he pulled back the cover to reveal gulasch with a side of rolls, an apple strudel and a mug of Viennese hot chocolate, all my favorites. I thanked the teen without glancing away from the traditional meal of my birth country, Austria. Instead of walking immediately back out like he was prone to do, Julian stayed in my room. I finally looked up to see his white Mary Janes twisting back and forth slightly into the plush carpeting, a clear indication that something was on his mind.

"Yes?" I prompted him.

He chewed his bottom lip, and then pushed his bangs from his eyes in a huff of pretend annoyance. I had been around him long enough to know how he acts and when it is genuine. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak. "So, Vash is going to be around you all the time, right?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Zwingli will, yes."

That seemed to be the only confirmation he wanted because then he nodded his head resolutely and marched out of my room. To say I was confused was an understatement, but then I realized...he must have heard the interview. It was the only plausible reason for his seemingly random behavior. My mouth twitched into a sad smile once I realized the it was the teen's roundabout way of worrying for me. Not to say that I wasn't worried as well, but like the pig-tailed male pointed out, I had Vash with me.

Vash. Even the thought of his name forced my brain to supply me with the downright scandalous image of his half naked form from this morning. Goodness, had it really only been a few hours ago? A louder growl from my empty stomach helped me to push the thoughts away for the time being, and I picked up a spoon to scoop up a hefty portion of gulasch.

The meal was finished in no time and the hot chocolate was the perfect ending, sending a warming sensation down my throat and into my stomach. I yawned and looked over at at the digital clock hanging opposite of my bed. I figured could comfortably nap for a few hours, so after making sure to set an alarm for 7:00pm just in case, I turned off the lights in my room and crawled under my covers. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and let my muscles relax as I slowly released it. Within minutes, my body was resting, however, my mind was not.

I dreamed of darkness and an angry voice following me.

The same words echoed all around me no matter how much I tried to escape.

_I will find you_

**Vash's POV**

The time for the meeting seemed to creep by slowly. After Roderich had retreated to his room, I found myself at a lost for what to do, and choose to roam the many halls of the estate rather than spend the time in my room. I was nearing the lounge where I first met my charge when I saw the huge painting once more. From a distance I could tell it was a family portrait, a elderly couple and child, but I couldn't distinguish the features at the distance. I moved closer to take in the picture in more detail, and I got as far as seeing two spots of lavender before I noticed footfalls behind me.

I turned to see the young silver haired maid everyone treated as a little sister of sorts. "Jillian?" I called and then almost blanched at my mistake. "I apologize, it's Julian, right?"

He lifted a manicured hand and waved away the apology. "It's okay, I'm fine with either."

I nodded to acknowledge his words and then waited for him to speak since he looked like he had something on his mind. His white shoes were nearly burrowing a hole in the floor with its constant nervous twisting.

"Yes?" I prompted and was confused when he snorted in mirth, a small smirk gracing his features. However, just as quick as the expression came it was gone again, and the teen squared his shoulders before staring me straight in the eye.

"You'll protect him, right?"

My eyes widened slightly in shock before narrowing in slight anger. "Of course," I told him, my tone a bit clipped. Just who did he think I was?

"At all times? Whenever he goes out?" Violet orbs, slightly lighter than a certain musician's, stared imploringly at me and it took me a minute to realize that he wasn't insulting my skills. He was just worried about his employer, and my eyes softened at my discovery.

"I won't let anything happen to him," I promised.

There was a pronounced silence that followed my words as the maid considered them. Whatever he decided about them in his mind must have been enough because he nodded his head in agreement.

"You better." Were his parting words before he spun with a flourish, his silver braids making an arch around him, and marched off down a different hallway. However, just before he turned the corner he faced me once more. "Lunch is ready by the way." And with that he disappeared from my view.

Now that the teen had mentioned it, I remembered that I didn't eat lunch yet. I wandered towards the direction I believed the kitchen to be and sure enough I could soon smell the faint aroma of gulasch. I followed the smell, the scent getting stronger the closer I got to the kitchen, and that alone took a good 10 minutes of navigating the halls. When I finally arrived, I noticed that the staff were already seated at the long dining table with bowls in front of them. I received a few greetings and returned them with in full before going over to the cabinet to get myself a bowl.

"Mr. Zwingli!" a dark-haired woman, Maria if I remembered correctly, called out. I turned towards her voice and watched as she jumped up and made her way towards me. She took the bowl from my hands and simultaneously opened a drawer to grab a spoon. "Come sit with us," she ordered, taking the dish with her.

I had no choice but to follow, albeit hesitantly. I usually just ate in my room, but it seemed that the staff wasn't going to have any of that today. She placed my bowl beside hers and sat down, patting the chair next to her to indicate where she wanted me to sit. With a slight shrug I sat down, and stared around curiously at everyone who had gathered.

"We all eat together after we make sure Sir is taken care of," Maria explained as the chef poured spoonful after spoonful into everyone's bowls.

"Gulasch?" I asked. It was a dish that I haven't had since I was a child, and I wondered if it was a common occurrence to make European food.

"It's Sir's favorite. We...well, we thought he might want it today."

I didn't ask further and she didn't explain further. It was clear that the staff followed the events of their employer closely. Looking around the table and taking in the sight of Julian gesturing wildly a few seats down to a group of laughing gardeners and hearing the 'my shift is crazier than your shift' stories from the security team on the opposite end of the table, it was even more prominent now than before that everyone was like a big family.

Just as I was wondering where I would fit into the group, Maria pulled me into a discussion about cleaning supplies. Apparently, when she first starting working she had mistakenly mixed bleach and ammonia, turning the bathroom into a temporary gas chamber. I told her how I used that exact combination to create a distraction to escape a wedding undetected with a runaway bride who was being blackmailed. That story led to another which led to another as they requested more from me and between scoops of gulasch and bites of bread, I told them the censored tales of a few of my past missions.

By the time all the dishes were cleared, I had the entire table staring at me with wide eyes, hanging onto my every word. I checked my watch and was surprised to see that a few hours had already past. I excused myself from the table and after my offer to help clean the dishes was waved away, I bid them farewell and made my way to my room. I still had a few hours to kill, and remembering the indoor pool towards the back of the estate, I rifled through my bag of clothes for my swimming trunks. I could at least get a few laps in. Grabbing a towel, I made my way through the huge building hoping that I wouldn't get lost. At one point, I encountered Haas and asked him if I was going in the right direction. Thankfully, I was and it only took me another ten minutes to reach the indoor pool.

The smell of chlorine burned my nostrils a bit, but after a minute I got used to the smell. I used the side locker room to change into my trunks. My watch was water proof so decided to keep it on to keep track of the time while I swam. I slipped into the deep end first which was only 8 feet, letting my body be submerged in the water first to get used to the cooled temperature, and then I did a few warm-up laps from one end of the pool to the other. Once that was out of the way, I performed a one-man medley. Or well, I attempted to. My Butterfly was atrocious and I made it half-way before I just swam Free.

Eventually, I let myself get lost in the still waters. Floating on my back and closing my eyes, I could almost pretend I was back on the beautiful Thai beaches. Once I received convalescence leave from IPA when I got injured on a mission and I chose Thailand as my place of recovery. That was my one and only vacation. Yes, I'm one of _those_ people. In fact, my coworkers say don't say I'm married to my job, they say I'm enthralled.

After a few more minutes I glanced at my watch and discovered that it was nearing the time to leave for the meeting. Actually, I had just enough time to shower and change. I made my way back to the front end of the pool, and instead of climbing up the ladder, I just grabbed the edge of the pool and lifted myself up. Once I stood up straight I stretched out my muscles, feeling more energized after the leisurely activity. I raked my fingers through my hair, pulling the wet strands back away from my eyes, and looked around for my towel. Once I spotted it I made my way towards it...and stopped in my tracks.

There by the door was Roderich. His outfit switched for a more formal attire, a suit that was a dark blue a few shades shy of black and the same blue scarf draped over his shoulders. Contrasting with the cool colors, however, was the red that dusted his cheeks. His eyes were trained on me, and I didn't have to look down this time to know I was barely clothed.

Oh, we have got to stop meeting like this.

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**I just love messing with the two of them. I cut the chapter short so I could give you guys something to read. The meeting between Vash and Mathias will come next. I'll try to be more prompt with the next update, but fair warning: I'm working the night shift at my job, and for those of you who have never had to do that, just know that it's killer on your sense of time.**

**Next chapter preview:**

_It was most certainly not a date._

_It was just the two of them, at a table, eating dinner, and dressed formally._

_Totally not a date._

**You know the drill. Review and there will be cake XP**


	8. Denial: Even When it's Obvious

_Chick-a-dees, forgive me for the long wait. I'm not sure how many of you follow my other stories, but I explained in my last PruCan 3-shot that I had an exam to cram for, which I passed by the way (whoot whoot!), so a lot less pressure on me now. I celebrated by watching Avengers: Age of Ultron (I fangirled so hard in the movie theater that my coworkers decided they can't take me anywhere in public anymore). _

_I have a RomCom TamakixKyoya from Ouran High School Host Club in the works if anyone is interested. It's mainly an idea that popped into my head and wouldn't go away (you know how pesky those things are). Until then, Hetalia Host Club will be updated within the next week (hopefully). __Now enough rambling from me. Shout out to my reviewers __**randomgirl40, jess, and **_

_**Skye Phoenix Dove (**Oh no, don't die once the story is over! I'm doing a Spamano spin-off about Anotonio and his charge Lovino the Mob Boss**)**_

_As well as those who favorited or followed. And now without further ado, on to the next chapter of Familiar. Enjoy~_

**Disclaimer: Star Light, Star Bright, First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, Have this wish I wish tonight...awww, it didn't work. I still do not own the rights to Hetalia. **

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There was an understandable awkward silence between the two that lasted all of ten seconds before Vash continued his trek to his towel, hyper aware that the other's eyes were on him.

"Almost time to go?" The IPA agent asked, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while he toweled himself dry.

Roderich, who's eyes were following the motions of the soft fabric, nearly missed the question, but caught himself just in time. "Yes," the musician said, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his suit's jacket habitually. "We leave in about half an hour."

Vash acknowledged the brunet's words with a nod. "I can shower and dress in 15." He wrapped the towel around his shoulders nonchalantly, trying to give himself the semblance of cover.

"That's alright. Take your time." There was a pause before Roderich continued. "Do you own a suit?" he asked, and at Vash's raised eyebrow, rushed to elaborate. "Not to say that you wouldn't have one. It's just that The Florence has a dress code. It's one of those fancy five star places my boss likes to hold meetings at. I just wanted to make sure you had appropriate attire. N-not that what you usually wear isn't appropriate. I just wouldn't want for you to be...not that I would let you be...but still-"

"I have one," the blonde interrupted the musician's ramblings, although he found the way the taller man twirled his scarf absentmindedly a bit cute. No, not cute, Vash had to remind himself, just entertaining. His _boss_ was entertaining.

"Oh, okay then. Good. Then, I'll just go? Yes, I will...go," Roderich finished lamely, painfully aware that he was making an even bigger fool of himself and just wanting to run from the room as fast as he could. Instead he gave his bodyguard a nod and after it was returned, the brunet walked out of the pool room with careful steps.

It was only once he was away from the other's green eyes did he allow he mask to fall. His face reddened partly from what he saw, but mostly in anger at himself, and he internally ranted about his foolish decision. Why in the world did he think it was a good idea for him to fetch the shorter man? The musician could have sent one of his staff to get the new employee, but no. Once he had heard about the bodyguard's whereabouts the temptation was too great to ignore. With the day's earlier events already in mind, it wasn't a far jump to wonder about the blonde in a swimsuit. Though he had to admit that reality was much better than his imagination.

This is bad, Roderich thought as he made his way to the lounge to rest, twirling his scarf all the while. This is really bad.

Unbeknownst to him, the IPA agent was having similar thoughts. Vash cursed himself for once again showing such an unprofessional side of himself. It also didn't escape his attention that the only thing that separated the rest of his body from the other's vision was a soaking wet pair of swimming trunks. With a sigh, he tossed the towel into the laundry bin next to the changing room, and then threw back on the shirt that he changed out of when he first entered the pool room.

Backtracking his steps, it took him half the time to return to his room to cleanse his body of the pool's chlorine. True to his word, the bodyguard was washed and dressed in 15 minutes. His suit was one of the few luxury items he allowed himself to have, a sharply cut Canali. The suit was black and accented his broad shoulders, the undershirt was a pale grey to complement his completion, and his tie was a forest green that highlighted his eyes.

Okay, so maybe he was dressing up a bit for the dinner. It was just a business meeting, but Vash couldn't help but look over himself once more in the mirror before exiting his room. As he made his way down the stairs, he could hear voices speaking animatedly in the foyer, and after a few more steps he could see the silver haired maid and their boss discussing a matter near the front door. The teenage maid's back was too him, but he could see Roderich's expressions. Not wanting to interrupt, the blonde stayed on the steps and leaned carefully on the railing, very mindful of wrinkles to his suit.

"But Boss," Julian was whining, his shoulders slumped wearily.

"No buts. You know how I feel about you going out there at night. Either Bruce goes with you or you don't go." Roderich's voice was stern but caring. Bruce, the agent remembered, was one of his most trusted security guards, and obviously trusted enough to keep the spontaneous teen in check for whatever event he wanted to attend.

"But Bruce is so _old._" Vash could imagine the effeminate's male's face scrunching up in displeasure. As it stood he could only see the musician's effort not to smile at his employee's dramatics.

"Augustus then?" the brunet tried to appease the teen, choosing another member of his security team, but one who was a little closer in age.

After a short moment of deliberation, the silver haired maid nodded. "Augustus is cool."

Roderich opened his mouth to tell Julian that he would inform Augustus about the change in plans, but paused in his actions when his amethyst eyes caught sight of his newest employee leaning against the stairway railing without a care in the world. Mouth suddenly dry, it took effort to swallow as he took in the way that the signature Canali design fit perfectly around the shorter man's body.

"Boss?"

That snapped him out of whatever stupor Vash's ensemble put him in, and he turned back towards the silver haired teen. "I'll be sure to inform Augustus," the musician finally said, but in the time it took for the words to come out, the maid was already looking over his shoulder to see what had his boss tongue tied. A moment later white eyebrows rose beneath his bangs when he spotted the blonde, who had noticed their scrutiny and started walking down the rest of the elegant stairs.

"Well, don't you clean up nicely," the teen complemented unabashedly and was rewarded with an slightly sheepish look from the blonde.

Cute, was the first word on the minds of both violet eyed males as the IPA agent thanked the maid almost shyly.

"So, this is why you're not going with me?" Julian couldn't help but tease. "To go out on a date?" True to his expectations, the two elder men vehemently denied the thought of them two going out on a date. The words 'business dinner' and 'formal introductions' floated through the protests. The loudest objections, strangely enough, came from Vash who tried to get the point across of how unprofessional it would be.

Chuckling, the pig-tailed male waived away their outcries. "I'm kidding, jeez. You should see the look on your faces." The two men pointedly didn't look at each other's faces, and Julian huffed about how 'not fun' the two of them were being before letting them continue on to their meeting. "Well, I'll tell you about how every goes we you get back. K, Boss?"

Roderich nodded and when the silver-head maid turned to go, the musician called out to him. "Knock em dead."

"You know it," Julian responded with a beaming smile and then skipped off to prepare.

"Where's he off to?" Vash asked when the teen was out of sight, this time turning towards the taller man.

"It's Amateur Fashion Week downtown, and I got Julian a slot for tonight to show off his creations."

Dirty blonde eyebrows rose high in amazement. "That's really nice of you, Mr. Edelstein," the blonde said, pleasantly surprised an employer would go so far for his employee.

"The boy's a total brat," the brunet said with a fond smile, too caught up in his thoughts to feel annoyed at the use of the formal title, "but he has talent. I try to encourage him to pursue his career."

"You're a great employer," the agent said with admiration in his tone. "I can see why everyone loves working for you."

"Yeah, well...yeah." Blushing at the complement and wanting to move the spotlight off of himself, Roderich said the first thing that popped into his head. "You do look nice." Immediately after, he pressed his lips together in embarrassment, but for some reason the musician felt the need to clarify his random statement. "Julian pointed out earlier that you clean up well, and I agree."

Goodness, was his mouth even connected to his brain? The brunet was so close to smacking his head against the nearby wall, and after hearing the other's hesitant thanks, the urge only intensified.

Luckily, a honk from outside stopped the situation from getting more awkward than it could go, and the pair exited through the front door, Vash letting the celebrity go first. When they were still out of earshot of Mark, the IPA agent spoke up.

"You look nice as well, Mr. Edelstein."

Roderich wouldn't stop smiling the whole drive to the restaurant.

**At The Florence...**

They arrived at their destination promptly at 7:45PM, and the driver dropped them off at the door of the restaurant before going off to park. Mark had noticed the soft smile that played on his boss's lips which was uncharacteristic before meetings with his boss. He was going to ask about it, but then he saw the slight red in Vash's face, and decided it wasn't any of his business. However, that didn't stop his eyes from flicking to his rear view mirror to see the pair interact. If he was hoping for something dramatic or out of character to happen, then the black-haired employee was sorely mistaken as the two men were stuck in their own little worlds, each reflecting on the last words spoken between them. They both decided that the other was just being nice and left it at that.

Now in the restaurant, Vash followed Roderich's lead, staying about two steps behind the other man and surveying the area. Instincts kicked in and he spotted 2 emergency exits in plain sight though more were sure to be found. The tables were arranged in a way to provide easy access for the staff to slip through fluidly as demonstrated by several waiters on the floor already. Very good.

Their table was under the nameKøhler, and soon they were following behind the hostess who showed them to the table. It was in the middle of the restaurant which had it advantages and disadvantages, but luckily the pros outweighed the cons at the moment. It wasn't that he expected anything to go wrong tonight, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

While taking in the sights of the various finely dressed patrons, Vash heard a resigned sigh from the taller man, but before he could inquire about the sound, the blonde saw something that put him on edge. There was a man coming fast towards them and he didn't think, the agent's reflexes just kicked in as he pulled Roderich behind him and delivered a quick jab to their attacker's gut. With a groan, the man dropped like lead to the floor and his head lolled to the side, just enough for the smaller man to see his features.

Vash could literally feel his heart fall to his stomach when he recognized the spiky blonde hair with a small black hat clipped in, and though the other's eyes were closed in pain, the blonde knew they would be cobalt blue. He knew that face very well since it was in Roderich's file from the agency. The face of the one who requested him personally to guard the musician.

Mathias Køhler. Roderich's boss.

With trepidation, the IPA agent looked back at the musician. He expected shock, anger, maybe even horror. What he did not expect to see the brunet holding his sides and laughing hysterically.

Was he missing something?

Roderich, on the other hand, was close to hurting himself from laughing so hard. His eccentric boss was renown for his famous Grettings by Glomps. The blonde man was a big ball of endless energy and sunshine, and the corporate man had no qualms about being a little affectionate with those he came to know. However, being the recluse he is, the musician abhorred the beginning of their meetings where the other would jump and hug him, regardless of if they were in public or not.

So, with a sigh, he had resigned himself to another impact encounter, but imagine his surprise when he was forcefully moved out of the way by his bodyguard instead and watched as his boss met the other end of the his new employee's fist, the smaller man's stance the exact same he saw just that morning when he watched the other train.

He didn't mean to laugh. Truly, the sound had come unbidden from his mouth much like the many gasps from the rest of the customers. However, he couldn't lie and say that it wasn't how he truly felt about the situation. His employee had just _punched_ his boss, and the guilty puppy dog look on Vash's face didn't help to quell his laughter in the slightest. It didn't even matter to him that the other patrons in the restaurant along with the staff was staring at them in concern and slight disgust. Roderich hadn't laughed like that it a while and it felt too good to stop. The brunet did eventually though, as the groaning blonde was hulled to his feet by the two equally blonde men that had walked up behind him.

Meanwhile, the blonde bodyguard's expression was caught between apprehension and confusion. In the back of his mind, Vash put names to the newly arrived faces. The one with the intimidating aura was Berwald Oxenstierna, Køhler's VP for Gentosha Inc's classical music department, while the one with the bored countenance was Lukas Thomassen,Køhler'spersonal assistant and rumored lover, but that was neither here or there.

The IPA agent stood conflicted as the laughter died down to soft chuckles and deep breaths coming from the musician as he tried to catch his breath. Just as the blonde was contemplating how long he would keep his job, the groaning lowered in volume and Mathias spoke.

"I'm so glad I haven't eaten yet, or else that wouldn't be a waste of food," the spiky haired blonde said with an easy grin on his face, although the effect was dampened by the slight pain in his features. At his side, Lukas rolled his eyes while Berwald stayed as silent and still as a statue. None of the men seemed particularly angry about what had just transpired (although with Berwald's stern facade, one could never tell), but even still, Vash immediately straightened up and bowed his head in apology.

"Mr.Køhler, I apologize for my rash behavior. I didn't mean to-" His words were cut off by a wave of the other man's hand.

"No harm, no foul." Came the automatic response from the easy going president, but then he winced both at his words and the residual pain in his abdomen. "Okay, wrong expression to use. Man, you have a powerful hook. My stomach hurts like a bi-"

Mathias's curse was halted midway through as Lukas took a still steaming roll from the basket of a nearby waiter and stuffed it into the other's mouth. "Language," the shorter blonde warned in a calm tone, and surprisingly enough, the other obeyed sullenly, chewing the roll in his mouth with a pout that could rival a two year old's.

If it wasn't for the fact that he could have possibly been fired, the bodyguard would have chuckled, but as it stood the blonde agent kept his professional bearing as silence grew between them. It was their hostess that broke the awkward atmosphere with a cleared throat and forced smile as she reminded them there was a table waiting.

Once they were seated and menus were passed out, Mathias ordered the Fromaggio platter and a bottle of Sangria. For a split second the hostess's expression showed exactly what she thought of the group having even a drop of alcohol, but true to her profession she nodded with a smile and went off to fulfill his request.

"Now that all of the excitement is out of the way, let's get down to business," the president said, his tone taking on a professional edge and making Vash subconsciously sit up straighter in his seat.

As a formality, Mathais introduced the three of them and the IPA agent did the same while Roderich stayed silent on the sidelines. While they talked, the Frammagio plate arrived with various cheeses and spreads, and the blonde bodyguard had to admit it was a bit fun to combine the different tastes. Only Vash and Roderich ordered an actual dish since the Gentosha Inc group planned on leaving right after the meeting was over.

"As you now can see the situations has escalated from mere written threats," the spiky haired blonde said when they finally got to the main problem, and Vash nodded solemnly. "Security is going to be boosted at all of his upcoming events, of course, but I'm leaving Roderich's personal protection to you. I heard that you received the Hawk-eye Award from the agency for your expert shooting. You have the best eyes out of all the agents and that's why I picked you. We need that right now."

The IPA agent ducked his head humbly at the praise. "Thank you, Mr.Køhler. I assure you that that Mr. Edelstein's safety is in capable hands." The aforementioned man huffed softly around the cheese he was sampling, but the sound went ignored by all parties.

"I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't think so," Mathais smirked confidently. "Now, I brought a list of upcoming events with me for you to have," he continued passing the bodyguard a folder. "Location and building layouts are included. The next 'public' appearance is a CD signing next week."

"How does that even work?" Vash couldn't help but ask, accepting the folder with a courteous nod.

"I'll work out the details later," the jovial president waved away the other's concern. He'd made do, just like always. Planning events for the mysterious musician always challenged his creative side. "Your job is keeping our money maker over there out of harm's way," Mathais said pointing to the brunet with his thumb. "That's a challenge in itself, believe me."

"I object to that," Roderich huffed with only made his boss smile widely at him, wanting to tease the celebrity more, but he refrained when Lukas shot him a warning look. Right, the smaller blonde was a bit possessive when it came to his lover's attention, and playful banter was sometimes taken as flirting in the other's indigo eyes. The slender man barely let the constant glomping slide by, so Mathais forced himself to get back onto the topic at hand.

"Regardless, if this stalker of yours gets too out of hand, I may have to cancel the concert at Vienna's Musikverein." Just as he thought, that got a reaction out of the normally collected musician who looked like his world just came crashing down around him.

Rightfully dubbed the "Golden Sound in the Golden Hall," Vienna's Musikverein was easily one of the best concert halls in the world along with Boston's Symphony Hall. It was Roderich's dream to play there in his homeland that he hasn't been to since his adoption, and to hear that it may not happen all because of a disgruntled ex-husband of a fan? He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the prospect.

"Now you get the severity of this," the president said, his tone softer now. "Your safety is of utmost importance, so let the man do his job."

Wordlessly, the brunet nodded, his eyebrows drawn into a fierce scowl at the lingering thoughts of his dream being unfulfilled. He was drawn out of the depressing thoughts by the clatter of plates on their table. The food had come.

"That's our cue to leave," Mathais said, standing up from the table with the other two men following suit. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Zwingli."

"Likewise, Mr.Køhler," Vash said getting up also to shake each of their hands, a greeting that was skipped when they first met due to the fact that he punched one of them. The guilt must have shown on his face because the president spoke up.

"No need to apologize again about earlier. To be honest, you've done what I'm sure everyone has wanted to do for a while now, but at least you had good intentions," he laughed in good humor and the IPA agent found it in himself to smile back. "I'll keep in touch. The tab has already been paid for, so you two have a good evening."

And then there were two as the Gentosha Inc group left them to their dinner.

"Well, that was definitely one of our more interesting meetings," Roderich said, shocking the blonde who hadn't heard the man speak nearly the whole time they were together.

Vash thought back to the previous moments and had to agree, although... "I didn't expect you to laugh when I hit your boss."

"I didn't expect you to _hit _my boss," the brunet shot back with a grin.

"Touche," the bodyguard replied, looking down at the Smoked Duck Breast that he had ordered. It seemed to be the only normal thing on the fancy menu. The brussels, turnips and roasted radish that decorated it looked very appetizing. He went to cut off a piece, but was stopped by a rushed shout from the other. Immediately, he dropped his silverware and grabbed his Glock 9MM that was tucked under his belt at the small of his back, looking around for the potential threat that he somehow missed and had his charge frightened.

"Put that thing away!" Roderich hissed, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment. He was not expecting that reaction at all. "There's no...threat or anything. Goodness, Vash, I only meant for you for to try the Smoked Trout Bruschetta Grande before going to the main course," the musician explained. "S-so put the gun away, please. How did you even get it in here?" And where were you hiding it, his mind also supplied, but the brunet didn't dare speak the question out loud. It was bad enough that he slipped and called the other by his first name which would hopefully go unnoticed.

Feeling foolish for overreacting once again, the IPA agent returned to his seat, ignoring the stares and whispers from the other patrons. Looks like they were getting dinner and a show.

"Sorry," the blonde said, not unlike a child being scolded.

"No, it's my fault. I could have used more tact when stopping you." When a silence started to grow between them, Roderich pushed the Bruschetta between them. "Try it, it's really good."

After biting into the crispy treat, Vash had to agree. He hummed his pleasure at the taste and soon the musician followed suit, picking up his own and taking delicate bites out of it, trying not to let crumbs fall all over his lap.

Once the Bruschetta was consumed in it's entirely, only then did they start on their main meals. In front of Roderich was the Black Bucatini that he ordered, and true to it's name, shrimps and clams swam in a sea of black pasta noodles smothered in ragu. Although, the blonde was more than satisfied with his duck, he found his eyes wandering to the exotic dish periodically.

"Here," the celebrity said holding out a fork with a portion of his dish wrapped around it artfully.

"What? Oh. No, thank you, Mr. Edelstein," Vash responded politely despite wanting to try it.

"I know you want to try it, so here."

"No, it's alri-"

"Here," Roderich insisted, pushing the fork close to the other's mouth.

Oops. That wasn't his original intention. He was only going to pass over the fork, but his hand betrayed him and brought the utensil up to the smaller man's soft looking lips.

Green eyes flickered between the fork and the taller man that sat across from him. Surely, he didn't mean for him to...oh, but he did, the blonde agent realized when the noodles brushed precariously close to his lips. The act was completely taboo and unprofessional, but that was also what made it incredibly tempting. So for once in his life, Vash threw caution to the wind and leaned forward, opening his mouth wide enough to bring the food in.

Amethyst eyes took in the way the other's lips closed around the utensil leisurely, and had to swallow around the sudden dryness in his throat (that seemed to be happening to him a lot when he's around the blonde). All too soon, the bodyguard was leaning back, his lips wiping the fork complete clean with it's removal. Roderich watched the other swirl the flavor around in his mouth as he chewed and after a few moments the brunet couldn't take the suddenly thick atmosphere anymore.

"Good?"

Even after swallowing, Vash seemed to savor the taste, going so far as to lick his lips as well. "Delicious." Was the reply.

With a nod, the musician started a random conversation in between bites of his food, choosing to ignore whatever the heck had just happened between them. A moment later his employee did the same. And perhaps it was for the best, especially when Julian's words from before had stealthily slipped into their minds, planting seeds of foolish notions.

It was most certainly not a date.

It was just the two of them, at a table, eating dinner and dressed formally.

Totally not a date.

They were just enjoying each other's company.

They were having an intellectual conversation for once with another person.

Absolutely not a date.

And yet, even as this became an unconscious mantra for the night, the pair couldn't help but wonder about the "what ifs" and things of that nature. They couldn't help but think that maybe in another time or another situation, it wouldn't have been so far-fetched.

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**Yay, sexual tension? I know, I'm such a tease with these two, but I can't help it. I also just had to throw in a little DenNor in here as well. I've decided to make this story around 15 chapters or. The next chapter features a few days time skip and we'll get more into the actual plot.**

**Next chapter preview:**

_I fell forward into a cloth covered brick wall._

_Or well, that's what it felt like under my cheek and finger tips. Almost absentmindedly my hands wandered for a few seconds before my brain caught up and pointed out that there was no way that could be a wall behind the door and my hands ceased their exploration immediately. Slowly, hesitantly, I raised my eyes to meet intense green._

_"Vash!" I shouted and straightened to my full height, realizing belatedly that I used his first name, but that small detail was overshadowed by the fact that I was just feeling up my employee a second ago. My face was most likely burning, but the agent wore his usual impenetrable mask._

_"Yes, Mr. Edelstein?" _

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think**


	9. Restraint: Even When it's Futile

_Happy (belated) Memorial Day, Chick-a-dees. I tried to get it out in time for the holiday, but this chapter was surprisingly hard to type down. However, have no fear! Tink is back and my creative juices are flowing again (You know that sounds less gross in my head. Who even came up with that phrase?) Anyhoo, a special shout out to my newly appointed consultant/Familiar partner-in-crime **BringBackSocksWithSandles **along with my lovely __reviewers: **Guest who couldn't deny the Kugel, Guest who likes awkward!Edelweiss, Katt1848, and **_

_**stanley869 (**I always say that I don't mind reading a fanfic that had a bit of OOCishness as long as it is written well, and it makes me so happy to hear you feel similar about my own writing. I hope you find the rest of the fic enjoyable to read also**).**_

_As well as those who favorited or followed. I hope this chapter is to your liking. __E__njoy~_

**Disclaimer: I, TinkanaiT32 of FFN, Truthsayer of dramatical origin and first of her name, hereby banish any silly notations that I have rights to Axis Powers: Hetalia **

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**Roderich POV**

It became clear to me that Vash was avoiding me. Granted there were no events for us to attend the past few days, but it explained why he always seemed to 'have something to do' whenever we encountered one another. And really what else could the man be doing? I swear the blonde spent all of his downtime either eating, sleeping, and exercising. He was avoiding me. Plain and simple, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't know why.

Something...changed between us that night at the Florence. Looking back, it almost seemed like a dream. Vash and I dressed to the nine, conversing in the dim light of the restaurant over wonderfully prepared meals, and (once half of the bottle of Sangria was gone) making up stories about what the other customers lives might be like.

The highlight of that night was when I got to learn just a bit more about the stoic IPA agent. During an innocent questioning session of ours, I asked what was his reaction to finding out he would be guarding a classical musician. Honestly, I was expecting him to say that he wasn't too keen on the idea. Vash seemed like the type to guard foreign ambassadors or something equally exciting. Nothing like me at all. So that in mind, saying that I was happy would be an understatement when he told me (with just a hint of pink in his cheeks) that he was a fan of my music and happy for the opportunity.

With most likely a bashful smile on my face, I asked him if he had any favorites and that started us on a long and riveting conversation about my past works compared to my newer ones and his opinions on them and their inspirations. I had to say that by the tone of his voice and his extent of knowledge about my works, the blonde was more than 'just a fan,' but I greedily kept that bit of information to myself.

All and all, I had fun. A word I never associated with anything other than creating music, but it's true. Vash could be charming when he wasn't so anal about professionalism and protocols. When the man let go of the reigns just a bit, he was quite a pleasure to be around. Maybe a little too much.

I wasn't a fool. I knew exactly what was happening between us, and obviously Vash did too and that's why he's been keeping his distance, but for the love of me I couldn't help myself. The bodyguard was just too appealing, both mentally and physically, and eventually all my thoughts led back to the moment at the pool when the water soaked material left nothing to the imagination as it clung to his-

Groaning into my pillows, I willed my body to stop reacting like a hormonal teenager. It wasn't like Vash was the first attractive man I had met, but it was more than that. The IPA agent felt safe, he felt like home.

But why?

A knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thought process and quickly I sat up on my bed, raking my fingers through my hair and trying to look like I wasn't just brooding about my bodyguard for the past half hour.

"Come in," I called, grabbing a random book from my nearby bookshelf to complete the act. I crossed my ankles casually and opened the book to a random page, only to shut it again with a snap. What in the world was I thinking when I bought 50 shades of Grey?

"Sir?"

I places the book with the cover face down on the bed. "Yes, Maria?"

"Kane's going to the market. He wants to know if you want to come," the elder maid said.

I thought about it. It had been a while since I went out of the house for random chores with my staff. Shopping with the chef was always a fun experience too, especially when Kane explained cooking with certain ingredients. Nodding, I made up my mind. It would do me good to get out of the house for a while.

"Sure," I told her, and after she shut the door, I replaced the god forsaken book back on the shelf and went to change.

When going out with my staff, the only item that I considered mandatory was my favorite purple beanie which covered the tell tale curl atop my head, possibly the only distinguishable feature from my shadow concerts. So after grabbing that and a reasonable sized overcoat, I strode out of my room, shutting the room door firmly behind me. I was at the top of the stairs, preparing my decent when I saw a familiar shade of blonde out of my peripherals. I turned my head in time to see Vash slip into his room, and an idea popped into my head, causing me to make my way down the hall to the blonde's room door, all the while debating whether to go through with my spontaneous plan or not.

I reasoned with myself that I just thought that he would like a chance to get out of the house like myself. The man of action surely must be going stir crazy being cooped up in the large home. Not to mention, wasn't the IPA agent supposed to follow my every move? Yes, of course he was, and that's exactly why I was about to ask my _bodyguard_ to accompany me to the market.

Confident, in my reasoning (excuses) I raised my hand to knock, but paused just millimeters before my hand struck wood when my ears picked up the faintest sounds of humming. Curious, I leaned closer, trying to pick up the notes. The tune seemed...familiar. Shamelessly, my ear was pressing into the wooden door now, my back stooped and shoulders hunched as if that would magically make the sound more clear.

And surprisingly, it did. In fact, the humming seemed to become even louder as time passed on. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, I strained my ears to pick up the exact notes and try to recall where I might have heard it before. Just when the humming finally became crystal clear, the door suddenly opened right from under me and I fell forward into a cloth covered brick wall.

Or well, that's what it felt like under my cheek and finger tips. Almost absentmindedly my hands wandered for a few seconds before my brain caught up and pointed out that there was no way that could be a wall behind the door and my hands ceased their exploration immediately. Slowly, hesitantly, I raised my eyes to meet intense green.

"Vash!" I shouted and straightened to my full height, realizing belatedly that I used his first name, but that small detail was overshadowed by the fact that I was just feeling up my employee a second ago. My face was most likely burning, but the agent wore his usual impenetrable mask.

"Yes, Mr. Edelstein?" His tone was polite and showed no indication that anything that just transpired affected him, and I decided to take a page out of his book, drawing myself up with authority and facing him confidently.

"I'm going to the market with the chef. I figured you'd want to know."

"Why?"

The question caught me off guard, but I didn't let it show. "So you can come as well."

"And why would that be?" the blonde said coolly while crossing his arms, and this time I couldn't stop the confusion from showing on my face.

"Because you're my bodyguard?" It came out more like a question than a statement. "I mean that's you're job isn't it? Keeping me safe?" I wasn't sure where this line of questioning was supposed to go, but I must have answered his question correctly because he responded with a meaningful look.

"Yes it is, Mr. Edelstein." Then without giving me a chance to respond (though I wasn't even sure I had a response to that), he continued with a tone that wasn't cold, but it certainly wasn't warm either. "I'll be down shortly."

And that was that as he shut the door to his room, leaving me standing there with most likely a bewildered expression on my face, and feeling like I had just been manipulated.

What had just happened?

**Vash POV**

Guilt was not something that I was used to. Being an IPA agent usually equated to leaving the civilian culture behind and adopting the new customs and courtesies of the profession. Emotions were a hindrance to the job, and it was just best to be as distant to the client as possible. Respect was best, Friendliness was tolerated, but anything more than that was just a recipe for trouble. I knew all of that, and that was the way I lived all my life when it came to missions...until now.

When I first saw the musician's name on that mission brief, I knew that this case would be different. I was actually excited about a client for once, but I had enough confidence in myself that I would treat him the same as all the others, and wouldn't get too attached. Well, I guess I had _too_ much confidence. Then again that was before I saw him, before I met him, before I got to know him.

Dinner at the Florence was a catalyst of sorts. That night was...well to be honest, that night was one of the most entertaining nights I'd ever had with a client. Hitting his boss aside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, and the conversations flowed easily between us. I also got to learn just a little bit more about Roderich, giving me a whole new perspective on the world famous celebrity. Not only did any left over food in the estate get transported to soup kitchens for the homeless, but sizable donations would go to various orphanages and shelters to keep them up and running.

Once again I was amazed at his actions. Not that I took him for shallow and heartless (unlike some celebrities I had the 'pleasure' of guarding), but with so little information available about him, I didn't have a clear outline of his personality either. It was during a quid pro quo question session, the brunet confessed his initial refusal to admit me to his staff and his reasoning. It was everything I already suspected, a recluse man used to his privacy and close-knit family type employees who were the only ones who knew his identity. When I asked what made him change his mind, he gave me a smile that clearly said 'Wouldn't you like to know?' and instead asked me a question in return.

Truthfully, I wasn't going to tell the musician that I was a fan, but when he asked what I thought about him as an assignment with a tone that he expected me to say that I dreaded the thought...I don't know, it just came out that I was actually looking forward to it, which of course led to me admitting that I liked his music. I didn't even mention that he was basically my idol, but his face was flushed from the words and his smile was pleased nonetheless. That smile...it wasn't far from his lips that night, and honestly, I didn't do much to stop it.

That's where the guilt comes in. I wasn't blind. I noticed the stares, the faint blushes, the sporadic (possibly unknowing) use of my first name. It was wrong in every sense of the word, but I let it all happen anyway, if only to feel normal for a night. It shouldn't have ever occurred, but I let my guard down that night, and because of that it became necessary to put up walls extra between us. Yes, I avoided him. The space was needed to clear our heads, so I kept my distance for the past couple of days and it seemed to work. Until I opened the door and he fell into me, his long fingers perfect for the piano mapping out my abdominal briefly and nearly causing all of my hard work to crumble then and there. Luckily, he snapped out of whatever trance held him and that helped me as well to put the walls back up again.

I didn't mean to be so cold to him, but I needed him to understand that the unprofessional level we were headed towards should never be reached. Maybe I was also reaffirming it to myself as well, but it didn't stop the guilt from filling my insides as I caught his expression before I closed the door. He looked like someone had just pulled the chair out from under him as he went to sit down.

It needed to be done, I said to myself as I changed out of my workout clothes and into something more casual. I repeated the words to myself when I noticed how quiet the brunet was the drive to the market, and once more when I realized that not once glance was spared in my direction.

My thoughts were conflicted. One part of me wished the job to be over as soon as possible for it would be just so much easier if the temptation was removed completely. But there was another part that willed that violet gaze to meet mine, that honey smile to be directed at me and to have that musical laughter fill my ears. Unfortunately, one was possible but unwanted, while the other was wanted but impossible.

"I don't see what's wrong with pampering yourself every once in a while." Roderich's smooth voice cut through my thoughts and I tuned into the conversation he was having with the chef.

"It wasn't the pampering I was referring to, Sir," Kane replied, and I moved closer to see what they were discussing.

"But this brand tastes the best, so why not buy it to treat my palate?" The brunet held up the package of meat, its high price emphasized by the red box surrounding the number.

"I'm only saying that other brands taste just as good, and you get more substance."

"As good, but not the best," the musician countered.

"I agree with Mr. Denston," I spoke up, startling both of them. Understandable, since it was my first time actually speaking since we left the house. "For that price," I continued in their silence. "you could buy three of the other brand."

"But I don't want 'the other brand,'" Roderich sarcastic tone left no doubt that the words would be in quotes. "What's the point of buying a lot of something if you don't like the way it tastes?."

"What's the point of spending a lot of money for something you can only enjoy once?" I shot back, fighting a grin that wanted to form.

There it was, that spark that I had missed in the past few days, the playful banter between the two of us because we were almost always on opposite sides of an opinion, the warmth that came with conversation with the taller man.

"Touche," the brunet said, and I could tell he was fighting off a grin as well.

It was a shock to me that standing in the grocery store arguing over quality vs quantity was strangely domestic and what's more...strangely welcome. The previously tense atmosphere from before was nearly obsolete, and once again the walls were rendered at useful as paper. It seemed to be impossible to stay away from the elegant man. There's just something familiar about the musician. Something that felt like...home.

But, why?

My thoughts were once interrupted by the celebrity, who told Kane that he could do whatever he wanted while he went to go look at the produce. I, of course, followed at a reasonable distance, trying to reestablish some form of professionalism. Judging by the slight tilt of the musician's lips though, I wasn't doing a very good job, but he humored me anyway and didn't try to start any more conversations. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved about that or not, so I settled for my usual neutral stance.

Unfortunately, that mask lasted all of two seconds when I saw the brunet comparing two cantaloupes with the most adorably confused expression on his face. If I didn't know any better I swear the taller man showed those expressions on purpose. After a moment he seemed to give up with a huff and just grabbed both of them. I bit back a laugh, but a noise still escaped and I received a glare in response.

"Why don't you come over here and do a better job then?" Roderich challenged and against my better judgement (as it seemed to be with most of my choices involving him) I walked over and the two melons were shoved into my hands. "Which one of these should I pick?"

"Neither," I told him, returning the fruit to the stand. "They're both not mature."

The musician frowned at the answer, looking at the discarded cantaloupes as if they would tell him why. When the fruit failed to speak he turned back towards me. "How can you tell?"

"The stems were still on," I told him. One of the many random facts I learned in my career.

"And that means it's not mature?" Roderich asked skeptically.

"It means that it was picked too early."

The other man nodded and went to pick up another. "So this one is good then? Because it doesn't have a stem."

"The area around the stem should be slightly indented, indicating that it came away from the vine easily."

Huffing once more, he reached for another (the netting is too thin) and another (you don't want a green colored one) and another (I can smell from here that the one you have isn't good) until he had two perfectly ripe cantaloupes in each hand. It was a pleasure to witness, watching the stubborn man go through a mental checklist for each melon he saw from the advice I gave him until he picked two by himself.

"Okay, I have stemless, indented, well-defined netting, golden-colored, heavy, sweet smelling cantaloupes. Happy now?"

"Yes," I nodded, letting a proud smile show. "Good job."

Roderich blinked a few times, and then turned his head, but not before I saw the brilliant blush that decorated his cheeks. "Th-thank you," he stuttered and then turned fully around so that I only saw his back. "I'm..uh...I'm going to give these to Kane."

The brunet tried to sped away, but he didn't see other shopper's cart on his right until it was too late. He tripped over the soda boxes that protruded out from the bottom and tumbled forward, losing his grip on the melons and causing them to go airborne for a moment.

My feet were moving before my brain even registered that something had occurred, and I caught him as well as the two melons before they could hit the floor. One arm was wrapped around a thin waist, and the other was full of the fallen fruit, one in the crook of my arm, and the other between the forearm and bicep. Somehow during the fall, Roderich's body twisted around (probably an unconscious decision to land on his backside instead of his front), and in the frantic scramble to catch him, his jacket rode up under my hand, letting my feel the sinfully smooth skin that lay beneath his clothes.

Time was frozen between us for just a moment. His amethyst eyes, magnified by his glasses, stared deeply into my own green ones, and his blush that didn't have a chance to leave his face was even brighter now, looking so down right alluring up close. The color brought attention to his lips that shined when a pink tongue darted out to moisten them, my eyes trailing the action closely. I had a brief thought regarding my sudden poetic tendencies, before the lips separated one more and allowed puffs of air to be let free. Puffs I could feel against my own lips because of how close we were. Oh, but how close we could still get...

Without a word, I straightened us both and released him from my hold.

**Roderich POV **

I didn't know what to do with the IPA agent sometimes. One minute he's silent, and the next we're arguing over the price of meats. One minute he's watching from the sidelines, and the next he's instructing me on how to choose ripe fruit. One minute he's keeping his distance, and the next I'm pressed against his body, his arm securely around me and face inches from mine. And...were we getting closer?

My breath left me in a shuddering huff when he let go of me and we separated silently. Intense didn't even begin to describe what had just occurred. I think I also felt a bit dizzy from it all, the fall only to be suddenly swooped up by Vash's arm.

"Let's get these to Kane," my bodyguard's smooth baritone cut through my thoughts and I nodded, not really hearing the words spoken. Distractedly, I took the cantaloupes from his outstretched hands and led the way back to the meats section, all too aware of the many whispers around us.

"Did you see that?"

"Ohmygosh, yes. How romantic."

"I wish I had a man to do that for me."

"What I wouldn't do to be in his shoes."

"I was kinda hoping they would kiss."

You and me both, my traitorous mind replied.

I thought back to the brief period in the blonde's arms that seemed to stretch on forever. Something amazing happened during that moment, something I'm starting to wonder if I imagined it all. As I stared up into emerald green, the callouses of his hand heating up my skin beneath it, I saw music. Pure unadulterated notes and tones drifted across my vision, and flowed through my ears as well.

D flat, Fermata, Chord progression, Ostinato, C minor, Espressivo, G sharp, Accelerando, Glissando. It was all there, the notes, though random separately, when strung together I knew, _I just knew,_ would form a gorgeous melody.

In a split second in time (just like most bouts of ingenuity) I had seen a new song for me to play, and I knew exactly where I wanted it to be heard.

I had a finally piece for Vienna's Musikverein.

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**Finally actual plot and more hints of SwissAus (Edelweiss). Forgive me for doing the stereotypical trip scene, but I had to move the romance along somehow with Vash's stubborn self. **

**Updates: I went back and changed Denmark's name to Mathias Køhler since apparently that's more widely accepted in the fandom. Speaking of another name canon/headcanon, would everyone prefer Vash or Basch? This pertains to Hetalia Host Club as well which should be updated within a week...should be**

**Next chapter preview:**

_"So," Roderich said, his long fingers drumming a rhythm on the table between us. "You train nearly everyday down in the dojo, right?_

_"Yes," I answered, not sure I wanted to know where the conversation was going. I watched as he seemed to steel himself before speaking in a rush. _

_"I want you to train me, or well...retrain me, I guess. I'm sure what my sifu taught me is still somewhere in my head."_

_"But you have me," I said before realizing how that might have sounded to the other. "I mean it's my job to protect you," I clarified._

_"Yes, I do," the brunet said referring to my earlier statement. "But, wouldn't it be easier if I wasn't completely defenseless on my own, and you wouldn't have to fight for us both, if it came to that point?"_

**One review can feed a starving muse, Chick-a-dees**


	10. Perseverance: Even When it's Naive

_Contrary to popular belief, I'm not dead, Chick-a-dees. I just had a very tiring month full of training and zero chances to unleash my imagination. So, I ask for forgiveness and continued support for my stories. You guys are the reason I write after all. So a super duper shout out to my __consultant/Familiar partner-in-crime **BringBackSocksWithSandles **along with my lovely __reviewers__: **The Forgotten Traveller, lawliness, and **_

_**Guest (**I will neither confirm nor deny...but I can hint at it**).**_

_As well as all who favorited or followed. Not much more to say except I hope you e__njoy this chapter~_

**Disclaimer:...sorry, I used up most of my creativity typing this chapter. This is not mine. All rights go to ****Hidekazu Himaruya ****blah blah blah**

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**Vash POV**

I sighed into my arm as I laid on the padded floor of the estate's mini dojo, sweating from a particularly hard workout and panting as I caught my breath. It was the morning of Roderich's CD signing, and the last few days had been strangely demure as it seemed as if the tables had turned, and it was the musician now who had started to avoided me. A total of 4 days had passed since the shopping experience, or what I had started to refer to as The Incident sometimes in my head. Temporary Insanity seemed to be a better word though, since there was no reasonable excuse for what had happened among the produce except that I had lost my mind and nearly kissed my employer. Yes, I admit that I was dangerously close to doing just that. I was attracted to my client, there was no denying it any longer. Not when my brain saw it fit to reply the scene in the store over and over and over again with different results of what could have happened if I hadn't pulled away; each one leading to a charge for indecent exposure and most likely losing my job.

Solemn, I removed my arm from my face and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling.

My job. The words echoed hauntingly around in my head. I had to remember why it was pertinent to keep my sudden libido in check. Even if I didn't turn into another Ivan (previously, I would have said that I had more control than that, but as it was proven before that my rationality and the musician didn't mix well), there was still the fact that he was a job. Roderich didn't seem like a one night stand type of guy and neither was I, so what was going to happen when the job is over and I have to take on a new assignment? How was it even possible to have a relationship with a world famous celebrity who would probably tour the world while I'm off doing who knows what for who knows who?

Yes, it was just easier to bury my emotions deep and focus my mind on others things...like the fact that it was the day of Roderich's CD signing, and I still couldn't figure out how Mr. Køhler would keep the brunet's identity masked. He would have to be a magician to keep the celebrity's image so secret from the rest of the world during all of the promotional events. Well, that or an Ex-mafia boss, I thought with a slightly wiry smile. For a moment, I wondered how Roderich would feel if he knew that tidbit of information about his boss, but then I chided myself for already having my mind on anything other than the musician's general welfare. There was no need for me to care about his opinion's, and besides, it wasn't my story to tell anyway.

With one last sigh, I dragged myself from the dojo mat to start cleaning up so I could then get showered. Clean up was simple with a smaller mat than I was used to, and in no time I finished mopping and was heading upstairs to wash up myself. As I reached the top of the winding staircase, I spotted the covert celebrity hurriedly slipping into his room with an armful of rice paper, hair messy and glasses askew atop his nose. After a slight pause, I continued on to my room where I tried and failed to keep my mind somewhere far away from the disheveled appearance of my employer. A look, I found out as I stood under the warm spray of the shower, that I may have liked a little too much. Emotions I could suppress easily, but biology was something else entirely.

Oh, this was going to be absolute hell.

**Roderich POV**

I was close to pulling my hair out. They were gone. The notes, the patterns. The beautiful melody in my head that I had seen so clearly in the store had vanished with just a lingering memory that was fading with each passing second. The parts I did remember were scrawled on rice paper (yes, there was re-printed sheet music paper to use, but I always did like to be different), and they made no sense what so ever. It seemed as if the moment of genius was just that...a moment.

"Master?" Haas's voice startled me out of my thoughts.

"Y-yes?" I called out, blinking a few times to orient myself.

"The car is ready for you."

"Car?" I echoed, confused. Was I scheduled to go somewhere? "Am I scheduled to go somewhere, Haas?"

There was a brief silence before he continued. "Today is the day of your CD signing, is it not, Master?"

CD signing? I repeated the words in my head, my thoughts still a bit sluggish. CD signing, CD sign-

"CD signing?!" Oh my. I checked the clock mounted above my bed and nearly tripped over myself trying to move away from my desk. The event was due to start in an hour, and the plan was to be there an hour early to beat the crowd coming in. The drive alone was going to take half an hour. "Thank you...I'm...uh...I'll be...down sh-shortly!" I spoke in between taking off articles of clothing.

I couldn't believe I had holed myself up in my room for the past 4 days just to try and get the music down. It wasn't uncommon, of course, for me to get lost in composing., and my staff always made sure I was taken care of, bringing meals to my room and the like (Julian even made me promise to let them hear a sample of the piece when I finished), but still to be so caught up that I forgot an event? It was simply unheard of.

In record time I showered and changed, and I had one arm through my coat sleeve and the other struggling to get in as I left my room. Both arms were in their sleeves by the time I made it down the stairs, and I pulled on my trusty purple beanie just as I stepped outside. My stomach rumbled just as I jumped into the car, and Mark, bless his heart, reached back to hand me a danish before flooring it out of the front gate. My breath left me in an audible huff, as I sighed, leaning back into the sedan's comfortable seating. It wasn't until I heard a soft chuckle from my side that I even realized Vash was next to me in the car. Honestly, where was my head at lately?

I glanced at the blonde from my peripherals and noticed him watching me. It made me slightly self-conscious, and I had to restrain myself from straightening out my appearance. Instead, I gave him a nod of acknowledgement and turned my attention towards the scenery passing by outside. It was our first time being in the same vicinity of each other since the shopping trip with Kane, since our maybe almost kiss. Actually, it was also the first time I even thought about the incident. Normally, I would be analyzing every moment leading up to that point and trying to figure out what it had meant, but I was too busy with trying to string together the notes that had popped into my head. However, without the distraction of composing, the images assaulted my brain. The feel of a calloused hand against the dip of my back, the warmth of his breath intermingling with my own, and of course, his eyes. I shivered involuntarily, and prayed that the others didn't notice. It did me no favors to try and explain why I was shivering while wearing an overcoat. Shaking, my head as if to shake the thoughts out, I focused my attention back to the vehicle's window.

Mark, the wonderful employee that he is, got us to to event in 20 minutes, and I was quickly and discretely lead through the back entrance. While passing, I got a glimpse of a long line leading to an even longer line, and it made me a confusing mix of nervous and excited to see so many fans. I also got to see what Mikkel came up with to keep my identity a secret, and I was impressed. It was like a smaller scale version of the silhouette screen I used on stage for my concerts (minus the smoke machine), and enclosed on 3 sides like a cubicle with about an inch of space from a desk to receive items to sign.

I was lead by the store's manager through an Employee Only door and that lead me to another door, making it start to feel a bit like a covert spy movie with all the twists and turns we had to make. Finally, I was stopped at a door and informed that my station was right behind it. Vash had separated from me before I first entered the back hallway, saying that he would be posted right outside the cubicle, so I was by myself as I prepared myself to open the door that would lead me to a long line of fans. I tried and failed not to be nervous. A radio interview was one thing, but this was in-person (sort of), and I could see myself somehow being revealed and my picture plastered all over the news and internet, my peaceful life over. Or even worse, what if my stalker came? What if this was the chance he was waiting for, and he's right there in the line, just waiting until it's his time and he pulls out a gun and-

"Mr. Edelstein?"

I didn't realize I was breathing shallowly until the manager called my name. I tried to return and breathing to normal and reign in my nerves, but the concerned look I was given told me I didn't do such a great job. I gave her a shaky smile anyway. "My apologies, just nerves," I told her and took a few deep breaths.

"Our security is posted in all corners, and your handsome blonde bodyguard is posted outside the cubicle like a loyal guard dog. There's nothing to be worried about."

I felt a spike of...something when she called Vash handsome, but her words worked in calming me down. The IPA agent was out there, and he would stop any threat that came my way. Yes, I was safe with him at my side. I could do this, I thought as I opened the door and a thunderous applause nearly deafened me. However, just then one last piercing thought invaded my mind.

But what if he wasn't?

**Vash POV**

I'd admit I felt...something when the musician only gave me a nod as a greeting when he got into the car. I'm not exactly sure what that something was, but I didn't like it, and what's more is the fact that I didn't like that I didn't like it. This job was making me question everything I ever believed in when it came to emotional attachments, and it was starting to make my head spin. Where was the line drawn and at what point would it be counted as crossed? How much concern is too much? When does being friendly turn into flirting? So many questions and not enough answers.

I was brought out of my thoughts by loud cheering and turned to look behind me just in time to see the door open and a shadowed figure step up to the screen. I watched as Roderich took off his coat and hat, becoming the image most were used to seeing.

Once the noise lowered the silhouette spoke into the microphone that was placed on the desk. "Welcome everyone and thank you coming. I must say that I'm surprised at the turnout. I didn't realize so many people loved my music," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and I swear a few ladies in the line swooned. "So, I guess we begin," he finished taking a seat. "It's a pleasure to be here and meet all of you."

And that was the end of it as the first person in line stepped up to get her CD signed. I gave her a once over from my position at the side, and then waved her ahead. The only danger I felt from her was the danger of fainting due to the celebrity's proximity and charm. Especially, when the musician asked for her name and then complemented her on the beauty of it. She wanted to know if he had a playlist already ready for the concert at the Vienna's Musikverein, to which Roderich responded that he was in the process of composing a piece. Then her CD was signed, Roderich was thanked and repeat. It became a common occurrence for the fan to ask one question while there CD (or vinyl for some) got signed, and the brunet answered most, if not all, with enthusiasm.

I spent my time divided between watching the line and watching the room in case a certain disgruntled ex-husband decided to show up. Common sense states that it would be an opportune moment, to strike one of the few times when Roderich was in public, and so I had to be extra vigilant in my observations, eyes taking in every detail in case of hostile intentions.

It seemed that my efforts were in vain, however, when the line started to grow shorter and the noise dialed down from earth-shattering bass speakers to a comfortable headphone quality. I could hear more of the conversation that passed between the musician and his fans with Roderich's voice floating from behind the screen like it's own brand of music, laughter accompanying it more often than not. Females were barely holding in their squeals and also a few men I noticed with...something stirring in my chest.

Resolute, I pushed the thoughts away and returned to watch the few remaining fans. An elderly couple, a young woman in pearls, a teen wearing a black and neon combo (there was no judgement), a pale middle-aged man in a windbreaker, a sing-

My mind halted and went back to the relatively average man in the windbreaker, sunglasses and hat. It was nothing too strange about him, besides the use of sunglasses indoors and was that white hair sticking out from under the hat? Nevertheless, there was nothing hostile about his posture or expression. Still my instincts had never led me wrong before, and my eyes zeroed in on his baggy attire, trying to assess if there was anything hidden in it's excess, but there didn't seem to be anything. My brows furrowed as my body tensed, ready to pounce if things took a turn for the worst. Again, my fears were proven unjustified when the man walked up and turned it to get his CD signed to 'Your Biggest Fan.' After a moment it was returned, and he walked away with a 'thank you' and a satisfied smile.

And that was that.

Hmmm, maybe my instincts weren't so all-knowing after all.

**Roderich POV**

My hands were shaking.

Things were going so well. Hand cramp aside, I was having fun. I couldn't see my fans face-to-face, but I still got a great sense of their personalities and character. Fanmail was nice, but to actually, hear the awe and gratitude in their voices? Nothing like it in the world. I especially loved when they asked for a personalized message. It made me felt like a connect was formed each time.

And then it was over.

_I told you I would find you_

The wrinkled piece of paper was encased in the CD cover, impossible to miss when I went to sign the inside, and after a moment's hesitation, I signed it with a shaky hand and slid the CD back, heart thumping and feeling all sorts of exposed. Was this it? Would he attack right now? Should I run? Would that even help? Was he going to-

"Thank you."

The words were unexpected and a 'Your welcome' automatically slipped out before I even knew what was happening, and then he was gone. Like a freak thunder storm causing mayhem and leaving destruction.

"Mr. Edelstein?"

The soft voice made me realize that I was lost in my thoughts while there were still a few more fans left to take care of. How selfish of me.

"I-I apologize. Hand cramp," I half-lied, and rubbed circles against my inner wrist as if that would make the lie more convincing.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. You must be tired," the female sounded disappointed and resigned at the same time.

"Oh no, there's still a few signatures let in me. Let me just..." I rolled my wrist a few times. "There. All better. And who should I make this out to?" I said picking up the CD that was slid over on the table.

A giggle and then it was like the previous event never happened. I signed the rest of the CD's before I once again donned my disguise and retreated to the door behind me. The manager was back and already waiting to lead me out. I asked her where the restroom was and after a polite word of thanks, I followed her direction and slipped into the male restroom. At once I splashed water on my face and took a few deep breaths.

That was so close. Close to what? I don't know, but it couldn't have been anything good. I thought back to those terrifying few seconds and wondered how it got to that point. Vash was right outside, and yet the man had walked right up. He must not have given off any vibes to get on the IPA agent's radar (and I trust that radar), so he must have also looked like an average guy. Like anyone you could pass on the street.

Suddenly, my breathing started to get more shallow and quick paced as the final thought occurred to me.

My stalker could literally be anyone.

The restroom door opened with a bang and I jumped, heart catching in my throat. Oh god. He was was back to finish-

It was the custodian.

Wearing a dark blue jumpsuit, the employee raised one eyebrow in my direction and then continued on with his business, dragging the mop bucket behind him dutifully. With my heart still thudding in my chest, I dried my hands quickly and rushed out of the restroom, only to nearly run into Vash who was standing outside like the loyal guard dog the manager had called him.

"The manager told me you went to the bathroom." Were the first words said directly to me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I side-stepped away from him. "I wasn't aware that I needed your permission to urinate." It was a snark to counter the fear that I felt rising in me, and it wasn't fair to the other. It wasn't his fault I was so weak.

"You don't. I just would like to know your whereabouts before you go running off." That made me wince inwardly. Of course, the blonde was just trying to do his job, and here I was making it harder.

"I'll make sure to inform you next time then."

"Thank you, Mr. Edelstein."

And that caused...something in my chest to act funny. Pushing away the feeling, I walked ahead of him towards the back entrance. Mark was, as usual, waiting for us with the door held open and I slipped in with ease.

There was silence in the vehicle on the ride back home, each occupant lost in their own thoughts. In fact, I didn't even realize I was rubbing my wrist to alleviate the pain until Vash held out his hand. At first I was confused, but then he asked for my hand, and curious, I gave it to him. It was a strange feeling as he took my hand into his and started to massage them (very well, I might add). He started from my wrists, rubbing firm circles around the bones, but not actually touching them. Then he did a weird pinching motion between the web of my thumb and index finger, and I bit back a moan. Where in the world did he learn _that_?

"Japanese heiress," Vash's voice broke through my thoughts.

What? Wait, did I say that out loud? Oh god, did he hear my moan as well? Wait, more importantly...

"Japanese heir-ress?" I echoed, my voice hitching a bit when he turned my hand over to massage the palms.

"Previous mission. She showed me some relaxation techniques, and I showed her how to break a man's trachea," he shrugged like it was no big deal, and I couldn't help but let out a snort.

He began to talk me through the motions, facts about yin and yang meridians and things I had no clue about, but I was content to just enjoy the low timber of his voice for the rest of the ride. However, there was something nagging in the back of my mind. Something that had nothing to do with pain in my hands. Briefly, I wondered if I should tell him about the note, but then I watched as he devoted all of his attention to massaging my hands and couldn't be bothered to ruin the moment.

No, I couldn't tell him.

**Vash POV**

Something was definitely on Roderich's mind the drive home from the CD signing.

Impromptu massage session aside (and don't get me started on how impulsive and reckless that was), it was clear that something was weighing on him. However, it wasn't until after he asked me to join him for lunch that I would find out. We were seated in the sun room, the same where we ate my first day on the job. Lunch was simple yet filling, just the way I liked it and it made me suspicious of the brunet's intentions.

Once our dishes were cleared away, I gave him my undivided attention, knowing that he had something important he wanted to say to me. I was right, and after a few minutes, the brunet finally spoke.

"So," Roderich said, his long fingers drumming a rhythm on the table between us. "You train nearly everyday down in the dojo, right?

"Yes," I answered, not sure I wanted to know where the conversation was going. I watched as he seemed to steel himself before speaking in a rush.

"I want you to train me, or well...retrain me, I guess. I'm sure what my sifu taught me is still somewhere in my head."

"But you have me," I said before realizing how that might have sounded to the other. "I mean it's _my_ job to protect you," I clarified.

"Yes, I do," the brunet said referring to my earlier statement. "But, wouldn't it be easier if I wasn't completely defenseless on my own, and you wouldn't have to fight for us both, if it came to that point?"

I continued to stare at him, trying to figure out where this sudden interest in self-defense come from. "Did something happen while you were signing autographs. Did I miss something?" It was the only thing I could think of, and I hastily racked my brain for any clues I might have missed, but came up blank. "Or was it something that happened in the latrine?"

"La..what, no. It's just-" he cut himself off and kneaded his bottom lip with his teeth, and as poorly timed as it might have been, my mind went haywire with salacious images. Those lips were dangerous, I thought before I blinked back into reality.

Trying not to fall into the same trap again, I focused my stare on the other man as a whole. "What happened?" I asked, my tone soft, which came as a shock to both of us, and I witnessed violet eyes widen before they lowered shyly.

"It's nothing, really," Roderich shrugged. "I was just being paranoid."

"Paranoid?" I echoed and the musician nodded.

"It's just that I realized that my stalker could be anyone, and then how would we know?"

"I'd know," I quickly said and was shocked (and a little bit hurt) when the brunet only stared in disbelief.

"Would you?" Roderich's tone went soft as well. "If he looked like a normal guy with normal intentions, would you know?"

Unfortunately, I did see his point and my silence spoke as much. Case made, the celebrity sat back in the chair and waited for the verdict.

I ran the idea around in my head. It did sound reasonable, and it would put me more at ease to know that when the job was over (and eventually the job _would_ be over, I had to keep reminding myself), the musician could handle himself if something else came up.

"Okay," I said. "I'll train you."

His responding smile made the need for a cold shower imminent, and I couldn't help but think just what the hell I had gotten myself into.

* * *

**The ex-mob reference refers to my old DenNor fic that I'll be bringing back once this winds down to a close. Slowly, but surely I'm introducing more plot and..."somethings" occurring. Much more coming in the next chapter. Speaking of which...**

**Next chapter preview:**

_Will be featured next week in my other fic Hetalia Host Club (Author Bribery Mwahaha)_

**Reviews make FFN go 'round**


	11. Acceptance: Even When it's Reckless

_Okay, Chick-a-dees, it goes without saying how sorry I am to not update in 2 months, but I'll still say it: I apologize. I just got back to regular working hours again, so hopefully the updates should come quicker. As a treat, I've decided to put an end to the sexual tension...but not the drama. I'm revealing a major plot twist (for those who haven't read the original). To move things along I want to give a totally tubular thanks to my consultant/Familiar partner-in-crime **BringBackSocksWithSandles **along with my lovely __reviewers: _**_Padfoot the epic GLOWSTICK, Sleepwalker48_**

**_Just Folie A Deux It (_**_I caused a binge read? Author Goal accomplished**),**_

**_That One Guest (_**_One big reveal at a time, the stalker will show up again in a few chapters**), and**_

**_Maya Gordelia (_**_Yes, it's that exact DenNor fic, but I won't start that until later. Spamano comes first**)**_

_As well as those who favorited or followed. I hope this chapter is to your liking (you all waited long enough for it). __E__njoy~_

**Disclaimer: Same as the last 10 chapters. Nothing has changed...unfortunately**

* * *

"You want me to do what?" Roderich echoed, disbelief filling his voice.

"Hit me," Vash repeated, not without a knowing smirk.

"Okay, that's what I thought you said...why?"

"Just hit me."

"I don't want to," the brunet argued, not understanding where the command was coming from.

"It's okay, I'm going to hit you too."

"What?"

True to his word, the IPA agent allowed Roderich to take part in his morning training ritual the next day. Both clad in comfortable work out gear, they had gotten the warm-up out of the way fairly quickly, a surprise to the blonde although really it shouldn't have been. While the musician wasn't ripping out of his shirt, he wasn't a twig either. More like...twine. It was only after the warm-up was over that the first obstacle came up.

A basic part of every self defense class is the Hit; be it slap, punch, kick or a combination of all three, it's important for a person to know the pain of being hit as to avoid being blindsided in their first actual fight.

"Come on, we'll start with a slap."

"Start?" The brunet was one step away from reconsidering his request.

Vash, on the other hand, just raised an eyebrow at the other's hesitance before sighing. "It's just to get you used to the sensation," he explained patiently. "I'm training you in defense and how to block most attacks, but in reality the possibility and probability that you'll be struck at least once in a fight is high."

Roderich nodded at the explanation. It sounded reasonable. "So, I just...hit you?" he said, swiping his hand in the air much like a cat would its paw, and the other barely resisted the urge to let out a snort of laughter. Instead he smirked and tilted his head so his cheek was presented to the musician.

"Okay, I'm doing it."

"I'm waiting." The blonde's smirk widened.

"Brace yourself," Roderich warned.

"I am."

"Okay, so I just," the musician muttered to himself while his hand inched closer to the present cheek, palm facing upwards.

"Roderich, just-" He caught off by a sharp smack on his left cheek.

A gasp came unbidden from the celebrity's mouth followed by a series of apologies. He hadn't meant to hit that hard, but when the IPA agent had uttered his given name, it had shocked him and therefore caused more force to be applied to the strike.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he continued until the other waved away the words.

"No," Vash said rubbing his reddened cheek tenderly. "You did exactly what I wanted you to."

"But I-" Now it was Roderich's turn to be cut off by a smack.

Stunned, the musician could only hold his stinging cheek and gap at the shorter man. "Wha...what was that?!"

"I told you I would hit you back."

"Well, yeah, b-but-"

"You weren't expecting it?" the blonde finished for him, looking just a tad bit too smug for the other's liking.

"Of course not! I was talking."

"Do you think someone will wait for you to finish talking before striking you?"

"W-well, no, but..." Roderich pursed his lips together to keep further protests in and Vash hid a teasing smile. "Okay," the musician said, slightly put off by the expression he saw. "We hit each other. What's next?"

"The first thing you should know," the IPA agent said in a no nonsense tone, getting back to business, "is that the goal is not to subdue your opponent, it's to fight them off long enough to receive help or escape." When the other nodded in acknowledgment of his words, Vash continued. "Blocks will be our first lesson. I come towards you and you just try to keep me at bay. Stand firm and assert your presence."

Once he got another nod, the blonde moved forward and immediately his charge stuck his arms straight out to keep him away.

"I just broke your wrist and arms."

"What?" the taller man asked, drawing back his arms and looking at his uninjured limbs with a confused expression.

"Put your arms back up to where they were," Vash ordered, and Roderich didn't hesitant to obey, only to flinch when his bodyguard somehow twisted his arms in between his own and slowly added pressure until the sensation when from uncomfortable and transitioned into pain.

"Okay, okay. Point taken," the celebrity hissed, and let out a sigh of relief when the blonde let go and backed away. He rubbed his sore arm and looked shyly at the other. "Will I get to learn that?"

Vash snorted. "Baby steps," he said and then proceeded to show the musician different types of blocks that wouldn't leave his limbs in jeopardy.

After the instruction, the pair spent a fair amount of time practicing advancing and blocking each other. The whole time Vash would point out the other's flaws or utter an occasionally praise after a particularly good block until he felt that the brunet had learned a sufficient amount.

"Okay, say that your blocks don't work," the shorter man started speaking, continuing with the next bout of instructions, "or your attacker comes at you too fast and now has you in a hold." As he talked, the blonde slowly crept towards the lean man and quick as a snake locked his arms around his back in a tight grip. "What do you do?"

Typically, the other thrashed around. Trying to throw the shorter man behind him off his balance and gain the upper hand, but Vash stood firm. After a few minutes of the musician writhing against him (and wasn't that just plain torture for the agent), Roderich sagged with defeat.

"Finished?" Vash asked, unable to keep the smirk out of his tone.

"Yes," the brunet huffed.

"Okay, here's a tip for you. Instead of focusing on which body parts are restrained, focus on which ones are freed."

The musician took a deep breath and did as instructed, not focusing on his restricted arms, and instead on his free head, legs, feet and hands. Gently, but firmly, he brought his right foot down on top of Vash's own.

"Good," the bodyguard said, bringing his foot up in mock pain. He wondered what the other's next move would be, but didn't have to wait long because just as quickly, Roderich simultaneously grabbed the shorter man's tank top (which had unfortunately continued to stay on throughout the training) and swept his left leg out in an arch behind him. With Vash off balance, he bent over and heaved the blonde over his shoulder, causing them both to topple to the ground.

Once the taller man's weight landed on him, the IPA agent released his hold on the other who immediately sprung up from the floor.

"Oh my, are you okay? I'm sorry." The musician's face was flushed red with embarrassment, but violet eyes were wide and filled with concern. This was the second time that his rash behavior caused the other man pain. Goodness, now Vash was going to tell him how he couldn't continue, and that he was too reckless to train, and-

"No, I'm fine," Vash said after he regained air in his lungs. "That was good."

"It...it was?"

"Very good, in fact." The blonde let out a chuckle, but it faded off when Roderich visual beamed at the praise. With spots of pink dotting high on the other's cheeks and bottom lip disappearing under his top teeth, Vash had to actively keep his mind away from wayward thoughts, especially when not too long ago he had the other's body writhing against him. The lean, smooth, soft bo-

"...next?"

The bodyguard snapped out of his thoughts. "Yes?" He inquired, hoping the other wouldn't notice his wandering thoughts...and eyes.

"I said, what's next?"

"Next," Vash said, letting a smirk run across his face. "Then fun begins."

"Fun?" Roderich echoed, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't sure how the blonde's definition of fun would be.

"Yes, fun. I'll walk you through how to actively get out of guards while standing." Quick as a snake, (and in a move that was completely necessary) Vash grabbed the other by the ankle, and with a jerk, brought him down onto his back. The brunet tried to get up, but soon found himself pinned by the shorter man. "And on the ground," the bodyguard finished with a smirk, and if his voice went a little lower than usual, well, who was to say?

Now both eyebrows were raised as the celebrity stared up at the man on top of him. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but it did sound like fun.

And it was.

Neither of the two could honestly say that there was a time when they had so much fun while sparring with another person. Roderich because it had been only him and his elderly sifu who didn't have the IPA agent's compact and muscular form that somehow still dominated him, and Vash because he preferred to train alone unless it was necessary, and even then it wasn't nearly as satisfying to grapple with someone who didn't have the musician's lithe body type pressed up against him.

Okay, so maybe they had too much fun.

It also didn't help that Roderich's strength were his mile long legs, and at one point his defense was to wrap them around Vash's waist to keep the other at bay. The blonde then countered by grabbing the brunet's hips firmly and pressing his elbows down into the meaty flesh of the celebrity's thigh, resulting in a bedroom worthy _scream_ from the taller man as his legs separated instinctively to relieve the pain, thus freeing the bodyguard.

Red-faced and completely embarrassed that such a sound came from his mouth, Roderich responded by trying to scissor kick the other and flip their positions, but his plan failed and instead caused him to not only knee Vash in the groin, but also the momentum brought the two together and made them bump heads rather hard. After a few choice swear words (who knew agent had such a mouth) and a ton of apologies, the pair had ended up side by side on the floor, shaking with laughter from the sheer ridiculousness of the event.

Once they got themselves under control, they took a water break, and it was while the musician was nearly inhaling the water from his bottle that Vash told him of his last bout of instructions for the day.

"So far you've learned to block, escape, and passively defend. Now it's time to actively defend. I did promise you that we would brush up on your akido, so that'll be our last step before we break for lunch."

Inwardly, the brunet sighed in relief. Finally, something he wasn't completely new to. Now that they were wading into familiar territory, the celebrity felt confident that he could at least be up to par with Vash's skills in this department.

"Bring it," Roderich challenged with a haughty look. One that the IPA agent returned in full force.

It was on.

**One hour later...**

The pair had been sparring for a while now, their bodies slick with sweat and faces showing a pained, but overall pleased expression. True to his words from the previous day, Roderich fell into the movements after a bit of an awkward start (it had been a few years, okay). The musician moved like his music: graceful. A complete contrast to the blonde's rugged motions, and Vash for the love of him couldn't keep his eyes off of the slivers of skin shown when the other's shirt rode up.

This far into a training exercise would be the time that the blonde would remove his shirt, but in order to keep their impromptu training session on a professional level, he opted to keep his on. Although now, with the teasing show he was receiving, he couldn't help but wonder if the other would have followed suit if he had taken off his shirt. He decided he would never know and forced himself to look away.

Roderich, on the other hand, wasn't even ashamed of his wandering eyes. After all, his bodyguard made quite a lovely picture, chest rising and falling with each breath and sweat beads rolling down the side of his neck to gather on his collarbone. The musician wanted to lick it up...and then some.

So focused on the alluring man in front of him, the brunet didn't even realize that his arm had moved without his permission to block an oncoming attack, and he blinked in surprise. It really was muscle memory, he thought. Unfortunately, his attention was not focused on the other man and his follow through punch. It hurt (as it was supposed to), but the brunet at least had enough presence of mind to sweep the feet out from under the other man, causing them both to go down.

They ended up in a tangle of limbs on the dojo's mat with Roderich on top of the shorter man, and laughter bubbled up in their throats until it spilled over, causing them to lose their breath even more.

"You were distracted," the IPA agent said when he recovered his breath, "but good job on countering even when hit."

"Gee, thanks," the musician admonished. The IPA agent didn't pull his punches, and he might even have a bruise. Still it was what he asked for, so he couldn't complain...much. Roderich leaned on his forearms to let the other breathe, but made no other effort to move. Sue him, he was quite comfortable down there. "Though as you said, I was distracted. In fact, it wouldn't have even connected otherwi-"

His tangent was swiftly cut off as Vash performed a proper scissor kick (that show-off), resulting in a switch of positions. Haughtily, the blonde stared down at the other and raised an eyebrow as if to say' you were saying?' Oh, how Roderich wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

In an attempt to, the celebrity grabbed the blonde's shoulders and tried to reverse their positions back, but only succeeded in pressing their bodies even closer together. The skin was warm and inviting, and for some crazy reason his hands moved without his permission to run down the corded muscles of his bodyguard's arms and back up to the collarbone that he was eyeing earlier.

The shorter man was a frozen stone above him, not protesting, but not yielding either, and the brunet hesitantly lifted his gaze from where it was glued to his hands traitorous actions. Once their eyes locked, it was like the market all over again, that sensation of being sucked into those too green gaze.

The musician's eyes widened in shock when some familiar notes came back to him almost instantly, stringing together more perfectly than before. He didn't understand what was happening, but he knew it was connected to the other man in some way, so in a leap of faith (and possibly insanity), Roderich surged upwards and connected their lips for the first time.

Despite his urgency, the kiss was quite chaste, a mere brush of the lips, but it made a shiver run through them both nonetheless. More confident and curious than ever, the brunet leaned upwards again, this time angling his head the receive a deeper kiss. This time Vash met him halfway, reciprocating the kiss. The joining was longer than the first, a bit too long in fact, and when the need for oxygen became too great, they broke apart to breathe.

"I should stop." Vash made one last ditch effort at being the voice of reason.

"I should stop you." Was Roderich's reply, and yet their actions were contradictory as they met for another kiss.

This one was more passionate than the last. Hands could not stay idle in the wake of each other's proximity, and so they roamed free, along the dips of the hips and over shoulders; anywhere and everywhere they could reach. They were finally fulfilling a fantasy that had teased or tortured them in the backs of their minds since they first met, and they wouldn't let the chance slip past. Consequences of their actions be damned.

Vash broke the kiss and the taller man whined (though he would deny it later). "Don't stop now, Vash," the brunet said, his voice utterly wrecked from the heated kiss. "Tell you conscience to shut the hell up."

The blonde chuckled lowly, his abdominal muscles to quiver pleasantly against the man under him and causing said man to release a low moan. "I've already done that, Roderich." And goodness if hearing his name informally from the other didn't want to make him melt, the next words sure did the trick. "I just thought that we'd be more comfortable upstairs." The bodyguard leaned down to brush his lips sensually against the other's neck. "In bed."

Vivid visions floated through the musician's mind at a rapid pace, and this time they had nothing to do with music.

"Okay...okay, yeah, let's go." Roderich couldn't get up and out of the room fast enough, much to the blonde's apparent amusement, but the celebrity silenced his chuckles with a intense kiss, resulting in the other rushing to take the lead and nearly _dragging_ his charge upstairs to the master bedroom.

It was a wonder the pair didn't end up with multiple bruises along the way with the way they couldn't keep their hands off one another, slamming each other into walls or rather anything sturdy enough to take their weight (along with one unfortunate tall vase that didn't), and how they kept tripping while going up the stairs because it's terribly hard to multitask when it felt like one's soul was being sucked out through their mouth.

Yes, terribly hard, indeed.

Though somehow and in some way the two of them made it into Roderich's navy blue and gold themed room. Not that either of them was even looking at the decor when there were much more pleasurable aspects to view. At long last, Vash was rid of that insufferable tank top, and the other could admire all the defined lines of muscle on the fair skinned man. The brunet's shirt followed soon after, and it wasn't long until there were no barriers between their skin. A fact they used to their advantage and pressed up against each other as close as they could, creating a perfect picture of juxtaposition; tall against short, lean against muscular, cream against milk.

Downright scandalous noises filled the room as they rocked their hips into each other's, savoring the closeness of finally being together, and it just felt so good and right and why in the world weren't they doing this before?

The foreplay didn't...couldn't last long. They had already waited for far too long, and after an embarrassing fumble with a condom, the IPA agent sank into the musician with a long satisfied groan. He gave a few shallow thrusts for a while before giving into his employer's wishes of 'more more more' and then bucking his hips in tandem. Roderich could do nothing but moan from the pleasure he was receiving and hold on tightly, nails making thin red lines on whatever part of the other's body he could reach. Vash also left a few marks of his own up and down the pale column of the brunet's neck, if only to hear more of those melodic moans. The blonde bodyguard felt like a musician himself, the way he played the taller man's body like a well-tuned instrument.

Roderich initiated kissing again; partly to stop the string of embarrassing noises from escaping his mouth and partly because he wanted another taste of the other's mouth. Not that the other was complaining. In fact, it was when their lips connected that the pleasure peaked, and it wasn't long before the celebrity was clutched the other tightly as his body was racked with wave after wave of pleasure. The sporadic clenching and unclenching of the flesh around him had Vash following soon after, his head coming to rest on the juncture of Roderich's neck and shoulder.

"Wow." Was all the brunet could say and he felt more than heard the huffs of laughter coming from the man on top on him. After a few moments of getting his bearings, the employee pulled out gently before going off to the master room's in-suite bathroom, throwing away the condom and coming back with a washcloth wet with warm water to clean up. Strangely enough, it was Vash's careful strokes that had the musician beet red and wanting to cross his legs modestly. The blonde said nothing about the reaction and instead threw the cloth in a nearby hamper, then scooped the other man into his arms and pulled up the sheets to cover their nude bodies.

Yes, Mr. Rough and Tough Sharpshooter Supreme was a cuddler, and Roderich couldn't keep the giddy smile off his face. He snuggled a bit deeper into his bodyguard's strong arms and felt all kinds of content; ready to doze off even if it was only early afternoon. He was five seconds away from a deep slumber when a soft hum reached his ears, the same he heard through Vash's door a few days prior. Now up close and distinct, there was no denying it. The brunet was familiar with the tune, but from where?

"I've heard that song before," he muttered, having barely enough energy to move his mouth properly.

The humming stopped, and the blonde looked down at the other though he could only see tuffs of brown locks. "You couldn't have."

"No," Roderich said, trying his hardest to remember where exactly he had heard the tune. "I'm positive I have."

The other shook his head. "That's impossible."

"No, it isn't," the musician rose from his resting place on Vash's chest, starting to get a bit annoyed. He knew the tune. He did! It was right on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, it is," the IPA agent said firmly, also rising up from his position to lean against the headboard of the bed, but keeping his tone patient. "You couldn't have heard it. It was a tune from my grandmother's-"

"Jewelry box."

There was a silence between them that stretched a little too long. Both of them still reeling in shock in light of the uttered words and the revelation that came with them.

"How could you know that?" Vash said softly, but Roderich couldn't hear him over the blood rushing through his ears. His mind was elsewhere, to another moment in time where a familiar set of startling green eyes stared back at him.

A memory all but forgotten.

* * *

***All the training moves were from my own experience in combatives and Brazilian Jujitsu, and like Roderich, my legs are my strongest defense, so I had to get comfortable wrapping them around _everybody XP_**

***This was my second story to feature a lemon (or more like a lime since I didn't go into too much detail), so I hope I didn't just completely ruin the story for ya'll. There's still a few more chapters before this segment is wrapped up**

**Next chapter preview:**

_Maximilian stared at the broken violin with tears in his eyes, not even noticing that the bullies had ran away and left him alone. He sniffed as he reached out to take hold of the jagged pieces, but quickly snatched back his hand when a splinter got lodged in his index finger. The pain was the final straw and then there was no stopping the torrent of tears that ran down his cheeks. _

_"Here, I got it," a voice said to his left and the brunet jerked back in shock when a hand grabbed his wrist. Deep green eyes were less than a foot away from him and the younger boy lowered his eyes shyly. He held still as the splinter was jerked quickly out of his finger and muttered a thanks to the other boy, but his eyes were still on the broken pieces of his most treasured possession. _

_A sigh was heard and then before Maximilian knew it, the other boy had picked up the broken violin._

_"No!" He shouted, lunged forward to take back his stuff, but the older boy held it out of his grasp. "No, g-give it back." The brunet was close to tears again._

_"I'm going to try and fix it, stupid."_

_Completely ignoring the insult, Maximilian only focused on the important part of what was said. "Wha...you will?"_

_"Yeah, come on. I think there's some glue we can use in the kitchen," the blonde said already starting to walk away._

_Not having to be told twice, the younger boy jumped up to follow the other. "What's your name?" He asked shyly after a few steps, though they fumbled when the other turned to stare at him. For a moment Maximilian wondered if the other was going to make fun of his weird violet eyes, but he didn't. The blonde boy just gave a soft barely there smile. _

_"My name's Noah."_

**Review to find out what that preview is all about**


	12. Memories

_I know, I know. Such a short chapter for a month long wait and I apologize for that. I will finish this story, it just may take a while. Shout out to m__y too-awesome-to-handle __reviewers__: **Katt1848, yoshifan8, That One Guest, and Masked-Angel. **__As well as all who favorited or followed. Not much more to say except I hope you e__njoy this chapter~_

**Disclaimer: Give me a 'D', Give me an 'I', Give me a 'S', Give me a 'CLAIMER'...what? I'm lazy, okay? This is not mine (obviously). All rights go to that one guy who created Hetalia. We all know who he is**

* * *

**_20 years ago..._**

His parents were on their way to pick him up from his violin lesson when it happened.

Maximilian was waiting excitedly with his teacher for them to come and he could show them the first song that he learned to play all by himself. In his small hands was a deep brown violin. It wasn't the best in the world. In fact, the instrument was a hand-me-down from their neighbor with many scratches along the upper and lower bout, but the nearly 5 year-old didn't care. It was his greatest treasure. And yet, when the policeman came in place of his parents to pick him up and told the confused child about the unfortunate car accident that claimed both of his parents, he would have traded it instantly if that meant he could have them back.

At their funeral, the brunet clutched the ratty instrument to his chest and he didn't let go as he said goodbye to his parents, nor did he let go when he was corralled into the back of the police car that was his transport to the orphanage since his remaining relatives couldn't support another child. In fact, he held it even tighter, if that was possible, as he stared up at the large imposing building that was to be his home for the unforeseeable future.

He didn't have a good feeling about living there.

**.**

**.**

It wasn't long before Maximilian realized that he didn't like being at the orphanage all that much.

The house was always cold, the food was never enough, and the other children were mean. He missed his home and having his own room. He missed his parents and his mother singing to him. He even missed his neighbor's noisy dog that would bark at everything that moved. His only comfort was his second-hand violin that he kept close to him at all times. He could only play the one song perfectly, but he started playing other songs by ear and making up his own tunes to pass the time.

The caretaker of the orphanage was, perhaps, the only person that was kind to the brunet. She was nearing 60, but was healthy for her age. She took care of most of the manual work around the house and employed the children of the orphanage to help in the chores. Maximilian was a favorite of hers, being one of the few quiet ones in the house and well mannered also. She loved hearing him play his little violin while she plucked weeds, sometimes joining in with a harmonious hum.

If only all of the time could be as peaceful.

**.**

**.**

The sound of wood splintering filled the room along with the laughter of his tormentors.

Maximilian stared at the broken violin with tears in his eyes, not even noticing that the bullies had suddenly ran away and left him alone. He sniffed as he reached out to take hold of the jagged pieces, but quickly snatched back his hand when a splinter got lodged in his index finger. The pain was the final straw and then there was no stopping the torrent of tears that ran down his cheeks.

"Here, I got it," a voice said to his left and the brunet jerked back in shock when a hand grabbed his wrist. Deep green eyes were less than a foot away from him and the younger boy lowered his eyes shyly. He held still as the splinter was jerked quickly out of his finger and muttered a thanks to the other boy, but his eyes were still on the broken pieces of his most treasured possession.

A sigh was heard and then before Maximilian knew it, the other boy had picked up the broken violin.

"No!" He shouted, lunged forward to take back his stuff, but the older boy held it out of his grasp. "No, g-give it back." The brunet was close to tears again.

"I'm going to try and fix it, stupid."

Completely ignoring the insult, Maximilian only focused on the important part of what was said. "Wha...you will?"

"Yeah, come on. I think there's some glue we can use in the kitchen," the blonde said already starting to walk away.

Not having to be told twice, the younger boy jumped up to follow the other. "What's your name?" He asked shyly after a few steps, though they fumbled when the other turned to stare at him. For a moment Maximilian wondered if the other was going to make fun of his weird violet eyes, but he didn't. The blonde boy just gave a soft barely there smile.

"My name's Noah."

**.**

**.**

No one messed with little musician as long as Noah was around.

It took Maximilian a while to figure it out, but he did eventual. The blonde was new to the orphanage and yet on his first day he fought back against the older kids. That rarely happened. He also stood up for another child, which was even more rare. The violin did get fixed with the help of some gorilla glue they found, and as a thank you, the brunet played a song for the newcomer. Later on that day, Noah sat next to Maximilian for dinner which prompted the start of a budding friendship.

Honestly, the now 5 year-old couldn't think of a time he had been so happy since his parents death. He had a friend! They were paired together for daily chores, and when they had free time, they would just pick a room to escape to and play. Noah was fascinated by Maximilian's ability to play the violin, and the brunet tried to teach the other what he knew, but that didn't work out too well. They ended up laughing on the floor when the older boy somehow produced a tune that sounded strangely enough like a whale. It was almost like a dream.

Of course like most dreams, you have to wake up eventually.

**.**

**.**

The news came while Noah was reading to the younger boy, a favorite past time of theirs since the blonde knew more words than the other.

Maximilian was called into the caretaker's office and told the news: he was getting adopted. Wasn't that great? Needless to say, the older woman was greatly shocked when the child burst into tears and screamed that he didn't want to get adopted. It was a bit unthinkable to her. After all, what orphan didn't want to be adopted and have a family again?

Unfortunately, what she didn't understand was that the brunet wasn't thinking about being welcomed to a new home, or even about the type of people who wanted to adopt him. No, he could only think about the friend he was leaving behind. After calming down a bit, he went back to find Noah. Surely, the blonde would have an idea about how to get out of his upcoming adoption.

In the end, however, it wasn't really his choice of whether he wanted to go or not.

**.**

**.**

Maximilian stared blankly at the older boy, not sure if he heard the other correctly.

"Wh-what did you say?" he asked just to make sure.

"You have to go," Noah told him, his back facing the younger boy as he cleaned out the closet.

"B-but I don't wanna leave."

The blonde sighed, but did not turn around. "You have a chance to get to a family and be happy, Maxy. You should take it."

"But you wouldn't be with me." Maximilian whined, not even noticing the nickname the other had taken to start calling him, but then he perked up at a new thought. "Wait, maybe...maybe we both could be..." he trailed off when he saw the blonde shake his head.

"It's hard enough taking care of one child, let alone two. Besides they picked you." Sometimes it was easy to forget that Noah was only a year older than him when he talked like that, and the brunet was always struck at how mature the other was.

After a while, the younger boy fell silent, and when Noah turned around he found out why. Maximilian was nearly asleep on his bed, eyes red from tears and dropping precariously. With a sigh, the older boy grabbed his grandmother's jewelry box before walking over. After turning the knob a few times to let the music play, he sat on the bed, pulling the other securely into his arms. The little violinist shifted and then settled with a soft sound of content as the soothing tones swept over him. It was a bit of a ritual for them to have it play whenever one of them felt sad, and this was such a time.

"Will we see each other again?" Noah could just barely make out the murmur.

"Maybe." He couldn't really say anything else.

"Don't forget me," Maximilian whispered fearfully.

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"You have my word."

"...what does that mean?"

"I'm...not exactly sure. It was something my father said a lot. I think it's like a promise." Noah shrugged, jostling the other slightly with the movement.

"Oh, okay." Then there was another bout of silence before, "I'm gonna to miss you, Noah."

A brief kiss was placed on his head.

"I'm going to miss you too."

**.**

**.**

It was raining on the day that he officially got adopted. A fitting weather for the mood.

Maximilian's few belongings fit inside 2 suitcases, and then there was his violin. He wanted to leave it with his friend. Something to remember him by in case they never saw each other again, but the blonde would have nothing of it. Noah was touched that the other wanted him to have his most priced possession, but the instrument would better serve its purpose in the brunet's hands. He told the other so with another kiss on the head.

With a teary goodbye, Maximilian was led away to his new home.

**.**

**.**

They were a nice family, the Edelstien's. A rather old couple, but what they lacked in youth, they made up for in love.

Instead of sending Maximilian to a private school, they paid for a home tutor to educate him, along with a violin teacher to culture the budding talent they witnessed. Later on a piano and clarinet teacher, as well and an aikido instructor. With so much going on in his new life, the brunet found it harder and harder to recall the sight of blonde strands and a too serious face.

Then soon even brilliant green eyes faded from his memory.

* * *

**There you go, Chick-a-dees, the whole reason why this story is titled _Familiar_. Hopefully, I tied in everything that I've been hinting at. There are still a few more chapters to go, and my plan is to have it done by New Years, but...well, it's more like a wish. **

**Next chapter preview:**

_"I have to know, how did you go from Noah to Vash?" the brunet asked, his face scrunched up as if the name tasted weird on his tongue._

_"How did you go from Maximilian to Roderich?" the IPA agent shot back._

_"...touch_é._"_

**Reviews make FFN go 'round**


	13. Revelations

_Okay, Chick-a-dees, this time it actually felt like two months to me, so it must have felt like years to you all. A million apologies, but I can't promise I will suddenly post every week. It's amazing actually how much free time you don't have once you become a full-fledged adult. Go figure. Anyhoo a special shout out to all __my __reviewers (or should I say saints because they put up with my infrequent updates): **Ariaprincess, Skye Phoenix Dove, BringingBackSocksWithSandals, fishstick1999, **_

_**Katt1848 (**I know, I previously had it longer, but I believe the brevity of it makes the emotions even heavier**),**_

_**I-am-anime-trash1613 (**Another former reader?! Thank you so much for returning. I'm glad that you find this version better, that's what I was hoping for**), and**_

_**That One Guest (**This chapter isn't a flashback, but it'll tie up some loose ends. Hope you enjoy it!**)**_

_As well as those who favorited or followed. I hope this chapter is to your liking (you all waited long enough for it). Happy Holidays and e__njoy~_

**Disclaimer: I've been obsessed with 80s pop lately...what? Oh, right this is supposed to be a disclaimer...um...something charming and witty about how this is not mine**

* * *

Roderich stared at the man across from him with renewed eyes. "Noah?" he asked hesitantly, watching the blonde's facial expressions like a hawk for any hints that his suspicions were true. He wasn't disappointed when green eyes widened briefly before narrowing sharply.

"How could...how do you know these things?" Vash asked, voice heavy with a little bit of suspicion and a whole lot of confusion.

The musician didn't answer, however, only let out a slightly unhinged laugh as he stared unseeingly down at the wrinkled covers between them. He couldn't believe what was happening. "Noah," he whispered into the air, at first to himself, but then again as he took in his bodyguard with new eyes. "Goodness, Noah. I can't believe it's you."

For a moment, there was nothing but confused silence from the IPA agent as green orbs drilled holes into his face, and the taller man felt a stab of uncertainty at his claim, but then the other's eyes widened and pink lips parted with a soundless gasp. "No way," Vash exclaimed softly, rough hands gently cupping his charge's face. "Maxy?"

The musician barely had time to give the other a watery smile before he was pulled into a crushing hug, and with his cheek was pressed firmly against a thudding heart, he discovered that their heart beats were both beating rapidly, nearly in sync.

"I can't believe it's you," Roderich repeated. "Goodness, all this time and we've never known?"

"No," the IPA agent mumbled into brown locks. "How could we? God, you look so different now. I tried to find you before. I wanted to at least send you a letter, so we could keep in touch, but the orphanage wouldn't give me your information."

The brunt's breath caught in his throat. "You did?" he finally managed to squeak out.

"Of course, I did." Vash said with a reassuring rub up and down the celebrity's bare back. "I never forgot about you."

And that confession made Roderich feel all the more guilty. The musician had completely forgot about the other; hadn't even tried to remember or establish contact. With an unbidden whimper, he curled deeper into the embrace. "I'm sorry, I never tried...I didn't even think to...I'm s-so sorry." Goodness, he was a horrible person. How could he have forgotten his best friend?

"It's okay," the blonde told him, but the other would have nothing of it.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. Do you know why?" the shorter man didn't wait for an answer. "It's alright because cause it meant you were happily living your life. You didn't have time for thoughts of me."

"What?!" Roderich leaned away from the embrace. "Why would you say that? That just makes me sound worse!"

"I thought about you a lot," Vash continued as if the other hadn't spoken, pulling the brunet back into his arms effortlessly. "Whenever I felt sad or lonely, I thought about you. You playing the violin or about how we tried to clean the floors with sponges on our feet or that on time you had a nightmare and you didn't want to sleep alone for a whole week," he chuckled at the memories. "They made me happy enough to keep going when times got a bit rough. So I'm happy you forgot me, because that meant you didn't need memories of me to help you live a happy life."

Roderich didn't know what to say to that emotional confession. He didn't see how him living happily while Vash didn't made anything better. In fact, he just felt terrible. It would have been best if they had just been together since the beginning, and he told the other as such. "It would have been even happier with you in it."

The bodyguard pulled back just enough to give the other a rare smile, before bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss. Exhaling deeply, Roderich unconsciously let himself enjoy a few more slow kisses, before tensing suddenly. Vash noticed immediately and created space between them.

"Goodness," the musician exclaimed with a slightly horrified look on his face, once more backing away to create more distance.

"What?" The blonde had one hand outstretched but not touching his charge, instead his eyes roamed over the other, checking the taller man over for the source of his distress.

The scrutiny did not go unnoticed by the celebrity, and he shyly pulled the sheets higher up his hips, eyes lowered self-consciously. "We...we just had sex." The words were quietly stated as a fact, yet remained hollow and devoid of emotion, almost as if the speaker was in shock.

There was a pregnant silence that followed, and the IPA agent raised one eyebrow, trying hard not to let the teasing smirk that threatened to arise show on his face. "Yes, we did."

Roderich's head shot up quickly, violet eyes staring at the other. "That doesn't bother you?" Not that it bothered him particularly, it was just a shock to suddenly be friends turned strangers turned lovers. Or was it strangers to lovers to friends?

"Not particularly, no." Vash answered, breaking him from his thoughts, and then as if to further prove his point, he leaned over, trailing his nose sensually down the other's neck. "Does it bother _you_?" he murmured, lips doing their part in making Roderich's higher brain functions utterly useless. It took him a full minute to remember that he was being asked a question.

"Well, no, it's…ah…it's just that," the musician bit back a moan. "Now, I can't stop imagining you as a little boy."

Lips detached themselves from his neck when Vash drew back, and the reprieve from the maddening sensations helped him clear his mind a bit and focus on the actual words he had just let slip. The blonde, for his part, was trying really hard not to laugh. It was an interesting sight, seeing so many expressions on the normally stoic agent's face, and Roderich would have enjoyed the multiple transactions if he had not buried his own face in his hands in embarrassment.

"Not like that. That's not…that's not what I meant."

"So...you're saying you don't think about-"

"No. Shut up. Shut up! That's not what I meant and you _know_ it." Roderich growled, amethyst eyes glaring into the other's laughing emerald ones.

"I know, I know. I'm joking with you," he said, which the confession in itself was a joke. Since when did Mr. This Goes Against Protocol start joking around with one of his clients (or at all really)? About the same time he started sleeping with said client, he supposed. He leaned back into the plush bedding, eyes trained on his friend turned lover and still slightly unbelieving of how they got to this point.

"Goodness," Roderich laughed. "That completely killed the mood."

"Oh? There was a mood?"

The musician shot the other a look. "You're just full of humor today, aren't you?"

The blonde only shrugged before holding out his arms, wanting the other cuddled into his side once more, and Roderich would have laughed at him if the action wasn't so darn endearing. Instead, the brunet retook his position against the shorter man's side, chest to chest with entangled limbs. They laid together in silence for a moment before Roderich's curiosity got the best of him.

"So, I know we read each other's files and everything, but there's still so much we have to catch up on."

"What would you like to know?" Vash's fingers kneaded softly into the celebrity's neck and he hummed in content.

"Hmmm...well, when did you finally get adopted?"

The fingers stilled and silence greeted him.

The bodyguard sighed deeply. He should have known that that would have been the first question. "I never did."

Roderich peered up at the blonde. "You never...?"

"Got adopted," the IPA agent confirmed matter-of-factly.

"But your name?"

"Something I picked for myself when I got out of the system."

"Oh...I'm s-"

"It's okay," Vash interjected.

"You keep saying that," the musician pouted, not liking how blasé the other was about his past.

"That's because it is. The past is the past, and for better or for worse, it shaped me into the man I am today."

Roderich didn't have anything to say in opposition to that, so he placed a gentle kiss on the blonde's sternum instead. In return, the shorter man placed an equally gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and the brunet was struck at how domestic they were acting, as if they had been together for years instead of mere hours.

He found that he rather liked it.

Still there was one thing on his mind that he wanted clarified. "I have to know, how did you go from Noah to Vash?" the brunet asked, his face scrunched up as if the name tasted weird on his tongue.

"How did you go from Maximilian to Roderich?" the IPA agent shot back.

"...touché."

"If you must know," Vash said after they both finished laughing. "I wanted a new start. Something different from my past, and a name to go along with the changes that were going to take place. I kept my last name, but I thought Vash fit me more than Noah."

The celebrity let his eyes roam what skin he could see of the other's and hummed in agreement. Noah was a little boy, adorable with his baby fat still clinging to his bones, but Vash? Vash was all man, defined lines and not an once of fat anywhere on his body (Roderich had checked). "It does," Roderich appraised, hands joining in to trail appreciatively over the broad torso in front of him.

The IPA agent caught onto the changing atmosphere quickly. "Is that so?" he murmured, knowing exactly what his baritone did for the other's libido. He was rewarded with a pleased hum that came deep within the musician's throat, but that wasn't enough. Moving so that he was nearly on top of that slender body, he let his lips fall upon a soft ear and . "Is Vash the name you prefer to scream as I take you again?"

The hum turned into a moan as the taller man nodded, unconsciously beginning to grind up against the leg tangled between his own. Normally, the brunet wasn't a fan of dirty talk (the prim and proper man found it a bit uncouth), but like most of his inhibitions, they seemed not to matter when it came to his bodyguard.

"Not Noah?"

Roderich shook his head with a whimper, hips increasing their pace.

"Are you sure?"

Another nod, nearly frantic this time now that Vash had started to reciprocate, moving his hips as well and creating even more glorious friction.

"I need words, Maxy. Which one?"

"Yes...Vash, yes." The musician didn't want to talk anymore, he was up and ready for round two, and because of their close proximity he could tell the blonde wasn't far behind. He wrapped his long arms around the other's neck and brought their faces close. Their combined breath heated the air between them and contributed to the foggy haze that had settled over their minds.

Once their lips finally met, it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The pair was wrapped around each other (figuratively and literally), their bodies moving sinuously as one. No other stimulation was even needed, and soon among the muffled gasps and groans that filled the air, their pleasure mounted and mounted until-

A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Boss, lunch is ready!"

Aaaaand, there went the mood again. Vash rolled from his perch on top of the other and threw his arms over his face to stop the groan that wanted to escape.

"Julian!" Roderich called out albeit a bit breathless. "I'll...I'll be out...in a moment."

"You okay, Boss? You sound a bit breathless. Did I interrupt private time or something?

"J-Jillian!" Roderich, flabbergasted, momentarily switched the maid's name. "I'm not-"

"Ohmygod, I totally did! Don't worry, Boss, I get it. Grown men and their needs." At this the musician's face turned red at an alarming rate. "Your secret's safe with me."

"What secret?" a new voice entered the conversation, and Roderich turned even redder if that was possible.

"Nothing! You guys go on ahead. I'm coming," he said without thought and immediately regretted it when loud chuckles could be heard from the other side of the door. The celebrity turned to glare at Vash when he heard a muffled echo of the laughter next to him. "I'll be out shortly," he amended. "See you guys in the kitchen!"

As he heard the mixed chorus of 'yes, boss' and 'yes, Sir' the brunet willed his blood pressure to lower, and once he couldn't the others' footsteps anymore, he turned fully towards the shorter man in his bed. "Not a word."

Vash gave him an amused smile and mimed zipping his lips shut. Jerk.

The musician rolled his eyes and fell back onto the bed with an audible plop. It had been an exhausting day, and it was only halfway over. He turned to find the other's eyes already on him, and despite all that they had done in the previous moments, it was the fond look in green eyes that had Roderich blushing slightly. "Um...we should change," he said meekly, reluctantly sitting back up. "You should go out first. I believe your clothes are somewhere around here," he chuckled lamely, eyes once again on the bedspread.

"Ah...the walk of shame," the IPA agent said, not unkindly, but the words pierced the brunet's heart anyway.

"What?" Voilet eyes shot up. "No, that's not...I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," the blonde said, getting up from the bed and searching the floor for his hastily thrown clothes. "It's okay."

Roderich averted his eyes from the shorter man's toned backside and twisted his fingers in the sheets around his waist. An accurate description of the guilt twisting around in his stomach. He was really starting to hate those words.

"Hey," Vash called softly, trying to catch the attention of the other. When that didn't work, he used his index finger to tilt his charge's head up so their eyes could meet. "I understand," he said with a quick kiss on the other's lips.

When the bodyguard walked out of his room (fully clothed mind you), a bit of guilt had entered Roderich's conscience, but that was quickly overpowered by the heat left behind by the blonde's kiss. His best friend's kiss as strange as that sounded.

With renewed energy, the musician finally got out of bed and jumped into the shower to wash. Though Vash was considerate enough to clean up after their activities, the pair had spared for a bit before hand, and accumulated a bit of sweat, so the warm water and lavender soap were much needed. He cleaned up quickly and dressed in a comfortable slacks and button down, the collar high enough to cover all the marks that the blonde agent had left on him, though he did allow himself admire them in the mirror for a few moments. Soon, though, he was slipping on his house slippers and making his way down to the kitchens.

He heard the commotion before he even passed the threshold, the maids trying to tease Julian into spilling their employer's 'secret' and he rolled his eyes, knowing it was all in fun. He handpicked all of his staff, and he trusted them completely with his identity. They all knew how important the celebrity's privacy was to him, so the chatter didn't bother him. What bothered him was the sight that welcomed him when he entered the room.

Vash was already down and being helped to a steaming bowl of Barley soup. He had also showered and changed his clothes, choosing to don a pair of dark-colored cargo pants that hung low on his hips and a tight-fitted Henley that showcased muscles that the musician had the pleasure of feeling just a few hours before. All of that was fine (very fine in fact). What wasn't fine was that one of his maids standing just a bit too close to the IPA agent and giggling a bit too much. Perhaps the most frustrating part was that Vash just let it happen.

No, that would not do at all.

"Mr. Zwingli," Roderich called out firmly (some might say sharply) and multiple eyes were drawn his way. The brunet ignored them and focused on emerald orbs.

A lone blonde eyebrow rose in curiosity, but the agent's tone was as professional as ever. "Yes, Mr. Edelstein?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he lied, "but would you mind bringing your lunch to the sun room? There's a few things about my schedule that I want to discuss with you."

"Not at all, Mr. Edelstein." And with that he turned back around to finish gathering his food, while Roderich started to fill his own bowl. The staff offered assistance, but was waved away. Though when Vash suggested to put both of their food on a tray and he bring it into the sun room, the musician didn't hesitate to accept. An action that did not go unnoticed by those present, but they wisely kept their thoughts to themselves...at least until the pair left the room.

It didn't take long at all to reach the Earth decorated room, and once the door shut behind them and the tray set down, Roderich didn't wait any longer to bring the other in for a down right filthy kiss. Almost as if he wanted to drive any potential influence the maid might have had on his friend turned lover with the power of his tongue.

"I though you wanted to discuss something," Vash mumbled against the other's skin once he was finally let up for air. Not that he was complaining or anything.

"Now that you remind me, I did." Roderich nibbled his way to the blonde's ear. "Vash," he said politely with a hard edge. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't let my maids flirt with you, especially when you were just with _me_ a few short hours ago."

"I didn't encourage it," the bodyguard defended, leaning back to catch the other's eyes.

"Nor did you stop it." Was the counter. "I never predicted that I would have to warn you against flirting with my staff."

"You don't. You won't have to. I have never had relations with a client or an associate of theirs...well, until you."

"So, I'm just special?" The words were said with a half-mocking tone, but all humor vanished when green eyes stared deeply into his own.

"You're more than that," Vash confessed.

"Is that so?" the brunet tried and failed to make his tone sound nonchalant.

"Yes," the IPA agent said wrapping an arm around the other's waist. "You're one of the most important people in my life. Time didn't change that."

"Oh." Was all that the musician could say as he flushed with pleasure at the words.

"So," the other continued, "Next time you get jealous-"

"I wasn't jealous."

"Just remember that fact," he finished with a smirk. "Okay?" When the other didn't answer, he repeated the question with bird-like kisses as emphasis until the Roderich finally gave in with a fond roll of his amethyst eyes.

"Okay, I will," the taller man said, indirectly admitting that he was indeed jealous.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good," the blonde gave his charge one last kiss. "Now let's eat. We still have a lot to catch up on."

* * *

**Back to POVs for the next chapter, so everyone can get a better understanding of Vash's thoughts on this new development. I hope this chapter wasn't too chaotic. I had several ideas I wanted to mash together and tried to make it all flow. **

**Next chapter preview:**

_The Musikverein concert was already sold out, and Mathais told me I was going to have a full house. My nameless final piece was nearly complete (which may or may not have had something to do with the copious amounts of...fun I was having with Vash), and I hadn't had another run in with my stalker. It seemed the personal note was just a scare tactic, so I found no reason to tell my bodyguard/lover. There just didn't seem to be a point for needless worrying. _

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